Louisiana Sports Writers Association Hall of Fame

After so many false starts, and too many false promises, the LSWA finally broke ground on its long-awaited Sports Hall of Fame Museum on Thursday. It should be open in 2010 -- which is about the time I am due to become the president.

You can see it here: (you may have to cut and paste). I'm in the blue sweater. Click Play.

http://www.kalb.com/index.php/news/article/once-a-vision-now-an-18-million-dollar-dream-come-true/2549/

Another one I didn't write, but wish I had

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the abode
Only one creature was stirring & she was cleaning the
commode.

The children were finally sleeping, all snug in their beds,
While visions of Playstations & Barbies flipped through their
heads.

Yes, and dad was snoring in front of the TV,
with a half constructed bicycle propped on his knee.
So only the mom heard the reindeer hooves clatter,
which made her sigh, "Now what is the matter?"

With toilet bowl brush still clutched in her hand,
She descended the stairs, and saw the old man.
He was covered with ashes & soot, which fell with a shrug,
"Oh great," muttered the mom, "Now I have to clean the rug."
"Ho Ho Ho!" cried Santa, "I'm glad you're awake"

"Your gift was especially difficult to make."
"Thanks Santa, but all I want is time alone."
"Exactly!" he chuckled, "So I've made you a clone."
"A clone?" she muttered, "What good is that?"
"Run along, Santa. I've no time for chit chat."
Then out walked the clone-The mother's twin,
Same hair, same eyes, same double ch in.
"She'll cook, she'll dust, she'll mop every mess."
"You'll relax, take it easy, watch TV and rest."
"Fantastic!" the mom cheered, "My dream has come true!"
"I'll shop, I'll read, I'll sleep a night through!"

From the room above, the youngest did fret,
"Mommy?! Come quick, I'm scared and I'm wet."
The clone replied, "I'm coming, sweetheart."
"Hey," the mom smiled,"She sure knows her part."
The clone changed the child and hummed her a tune,
as she bundled the small one in a blanket cocoon.
"You're the best mommy ever, I really love you."
The clone smiled and sighed, "And I love you too."

The mom frowned and said, "Sorry, Santa, no deal."
"That's my child's LOVE she is going to steal."
Smiling wisely, Santa said, "To me it is clear,"
"Only one loving mother is needed here."
The mom kissed her child and tucked her into bed.
"Thank you, Santa, for clearing my head."
"Sometimes I forget, it won't be very long,"
"Before they'll be too old for my cradle and song."
The clock on the mantle began to chime.

Santa whispered to the clone, "It works every time."
With the clone by his side, Santa said:"Goodnight"
"Merry Christmas, dear Mom, you'll be all right."
Sometimes we need reminding of what life is about.
Especially at times when the Holiday season shouts,
and all we do is clean, bake, and procure.
You get the picture---I'm sure.

So stop for a moment and hug that little one so dear,
whether he/she is 2 or 22, or even older this year.
For they are the gift that God gave us from Heaven above,
and what a special gift to be treasured, with endless LOVE!

Words of Wisdom from Lora Leigh

It's Thanksgiving Day. I have pulled out all of my wedding gift china and my silver passed down to me from my great-grandmother. The table is gorgeous. I am very proud. I know my grandmother would be proud.
Lora Leigh says: "Mom. It's a little much."
*********************
Santa Claus has gone to Lora Leigh's school for pictures. She gets all dressed up and goes. She comes home:
Me: Did you see Santa?
Her: Yes.
Me: Was he nice?
Her: Yes.
Me: Did you tell him what you wanted for Christmas?
Her: No.
Me: Why not?
Her: Because I knew that wasn't the real Santa. That was just some guy in a Santa suit.
****************************************************
Lora Leigh would love to be on TV someday. She wants to sing and act. She says to me, "Mom. I'd love to be on a TV show one day." Me: "You would? What kind of show would you want to do?" Her, "Full House."

The things kids say.....

Lora Leigh really does have an amazing memory.  We were on our way to the Boo at the Zoo tonight, our second visit to the annual event.  Last year, we made the mistake of taking her on the Ghost Train.  She was terrified.  Tonight, she told us she wasn't going near it. Then she started rattling off all the parts of it that scared her last year?

"I remember, Mommy," she said.

"I have a memory like a Hippopotamus."

Now we're at home. And Tennessee and South Carolina are playing football on TV.
 Lora Leigh wants to know if the Tennessee team is the Pumpkins or the Home Depot ...

This Mom ROCKS!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxT5NwQUtVM


Turn it up!!!

I did not write this, but I wish I had.

The other day a young person asked me how I felt about being old. I was taken aback, for I do not think of myself as old. Upon seeing my reaction, she was immediately embarrassed, but I explained that it was an interesting question, and I would ponder it, and let her know.

Old Age, I decided, is a gift.I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have always wanted to be.  Oh, not my body!  I sometime despair over my body, the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt.  And often I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror (who looks like my mother!), but I don't agonize over those things for long.



I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly.  As I've aged, I've become more kind to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend.  
I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but looks so avante garde on my patio.  I am entitled to a! treat, to be messy, to be extravagant.  
I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.  
Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 AM and sleep until noon?

 

I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60&70's, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love ... I will.


I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set.

They, too, will get old.


I know I am sometimes forgetful.  But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And I eventually remember the important things.

 

Sure, over the years my heart has been broken.   How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a car?  But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion.  A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.


I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face.  So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver.    

As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think.  I don't  question myself anymore.  I've even earned the right to be wrong.



So, to answer your question, I  like being old. It has set me free.  I like the person I have become.  I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be.  And I shall eat dessert every single day. (If I feel like it)

Two years later

I was not in New Orleans on August 29, 2005.  In fact, I was far, far away, in Natchitoches, LA., safe and dry in a cozy but cramped apartment with my stepdaughter, her two roommates, my husband, my daughter, my husband's ex wife and her husband.

I don't even live in New Orleans, but in a suburb. A nice, safe,  high and dry suburb that escaped the wrath of Hurricane Katrina unscathed.

I only spent a week in my self-imposed exile.  I returned to my house five days later, cleaned out the fridge, spotted the mouse that had moved into my kitchen and went to a friend's house for a few hours until the turned my electricity back on. That night I slept in my own bed. But I had to go days without cable.

I did not lose everything I owned. In fact, I did not lose anything I owned.

Well, does one's sense of security count?

I now spend my summers making mental lists of what I must pack when there is a hurricane in the gulf. I find myself mentally filing away the names of hotels along the way when I drive out of town. They are potential places of refuge. I have spent two years scanning in my old photos onto my computer. I have bought a DVD recorder but have not yet begun transferring all the video to disk.

I have Lora Leigh's special things in a stack so that I can snatch them up quickly -- her  Lora Day Box which contains all the keepsakes from her finalization day, her baby box, her baby book, her two scrapbooks. She's only 6. She hasn't accumulated as much -- YET.

I have prioritized my own -- the lock box, the bill basket, the hard drive, the wedding album, the one photo album that has pictures of my brother and me as children, the two books I've written but haven't published yet, the French silver, the silver tray, the videos and as many photos as I can cram into whatever space we have.

I also have a brand new canvas luggage holder for the top of my car -- so I can pack more stuff.

And I have a 6-year-old who is still traumatized.  She is terrified of the daily average thunderstorm. She plays "evacuation" with her friends. She has nightmares about the day another storm comes our way and we have to leave. She won't let me watch any of the anniversary stuff on TV.

It is two years today since Hurricane Katrina tried to destroy the city of New Orleans, the mother ship of  us suburbanites. We who are counted among the metropolitan area's population, and who count ourselves, count on that city for much of our existence. We count on it for our culture, our way of life, our uniqueness in this world and, well, for our jobs.  It is our tether, our home base.

Katrina cut us off for a while, but the ties have not been severed. I have been there. I am not afraid to go there. I just don't like to drive there.