Walk Journals ~ September 6 (True Confessions)

Confession Number 1:  When I stepped off the porch for my keep fit walk tonight my mouth was full of maple walnut fudge that I bought at the beach yesterday.

Struggling these days--struggling a lot.  I'm on a slippery slope and no one knows it better than me.  So many set backs ... emotional stuff in mid-summer, vacation eating mode all summer, little or no food journaling. Excuses, excuses, excuses.  Then the sciatic issue that started last week.  Okay, so pain is a valid excuse.  For not working out--not for over-eating.  I've eased up a bit on myself since I'm in a decent place weight-wise.  The health crises and urgency of last year are gone and so, it seems, is part of the motivation.  But I'm not in the place I want to be and I'm wondering why I could get up at 4:30 AM this time last year and why 6 AM is now a struggle; why I could get two walks in a day this time last year and one a day is now a struggle; why I journaled every bite this time last year (and weighed and measured them too) and making good choices is now a struggle.  I have no answers.

I love this picture from tonight.  I'm surprised that little box measured a pedestrian at all.  Especially a pedestrian who was so  ... well, pedestrian.  I wish my "speed" was "7."  7 miles an hour?  I did get slightly above 4 mph for a while earlier this year.  I think I was doing 4 miles in about 52 minutes.  

I dragged myself over to Cedar Lake in the fading light tonight.  It was chilly and people over there had either chimmineas going or their fire places were already getting a workout.  I love a twilight walk ... it's so relaxing at the end of the day.  With the sciatic pain (not as bad this week as last week), I've been forced to slow down.  Not so good for the workout, but really good for the soul.  Listening to music and letting my thoughts wander all over the place (more rambling) is a good way to ultimately get myself organized.       

Tonight I'm thinking about both yesterday at the beach and the wild ride that was my day at work.  It's amazing that how in the space of less than 48 hours one can be gloriously relaxed and completely reveling in being "alone in a crowd" and then so completely crazed that it's ultimately impossible to move in any productive direction.   Yesterday I sat in a beach chair from noon until about 6 PM, moving off the beach only to indulge in my favorite new shore food for lunch:  fish tacos.  I half-napped while waves of conversations floated around me.  Have you ever noticed that on the beach?  You're outside with loads of people around and waves crashing and gulls making a racket but if you close your eyes, conversations tune themselves in like stations on a radio.  Then your stream of consciousness takes hold ... I wonder, for example, what led the young woman on my right, snuggling close to a young man, to mention that "eyeballs are mostly composed of some sort of gel."  She needs a lesson in romantic chat, I think to myself.  

Then behind me the inevitable:

Big kid:  You can't use my shovel.

Little kid:  You're not using it.

BK:  Mom! Tell him he can't use my shovel.

Mom:  You're not using it.

You can see where that's headed and there's really no way for anyone to come out a winner.  And I wondered why they decided to sit so close to me when the beach wasn't really crowded.  I've done my time with kids on the beach.

I decided to trespass on the right of way on the east side of the lake.  These lake communities are private properties for residents only.  Denville has several of them.  Tiny ponds and pools of water that folks in New Jersey refer to as lakes that anywhere else might not even be worthy of a name.  But they're delightful and I've become accustomed to these small lakes and take advantage of the pretty views as often as I can.  Tonight I'm inspired by this still life of a fishing rod and bits of tackle on the bench next to the shore line of a tiny "inlet."  If I was a teacher, it would be next week's writing prompt for my class.  There wasn't a soul in sight.  Who left it behind?  Was it a child, called home to dinner?  An absent-minded older fellow?  Will he or she be back to retrieve it?  Must I walk this way tomorrow to find out?  Do I care that much?  ... probably not ...

Since it's Friday, I try not to dwell on work too much but it's impossible to ignore the fact that it's been the most unsettling school opening for me in the 13 school openings I've had.  Everything is going really well but new layers (and layers and layers) of security are tough to get used to and create more work for the office; the school bus company that won the bid this year is unresponsive to our transportation person; people have resigned, all for very good reasons but it's remarkable that we've lost so many in such a short period of time.  I'm happy for all who've moved on to bigger and better things but geez ... at the end of the summer/start of the year?  I wanted to try and find my desk before I left today but the fire alarm went off.  Only the after-care program and a couple of administrators and I were around ... Teachers:  do not bring your old toaster ovens to the teachers' room.  Do us all a favor and get new ones for your space at school.  It was a wacky week for a first week back with holidays on both Monday and Thursday.  Next week ... hoping for normal.

Rambling on and trying to pick up speed as I've unwittingly dressed all in black and the shadows are closing in quickly.  I'm going to need to get out of these neighborhood roads and back onto the main road with the safety of sidewalks.  Obviously though, no one's told these guys that is not safe to play in the street.  Just up from the beach, these two are not the least bit concerned about the cars that can't get past them from two directions at the intersection where three roads come together.  Or they are just enjoying the fact that I'm taking lots of pictures.  Finally I shoo them along so the car-bound folks can continue on their way.  I'd have stood there all night watching them watch me ... but folks in cars always seem to be in a hurry ... and ultimately, it's just another excuse for not moving.

I'm going to have to find my way back to that resolve I had last fall and get serious again.  I'm hoping this nerve business moves along quickly because it's easy to make excuses for less exercise--that slippery slope that leads to other poor decisions.  I'm in a pretty good place right now but I know how all that can change.  I really can't let that happen ... I gave away all the large-size (make that extra-extra large) clothes.

Tonight:  5 miles.  Not bad.  Not great but I'll take it.  I'll ramble more tomorrow.

Confession Number 2:  I'm drinking a glass of wine and enjoying a chocolate chip muffin as I write.

~

Playlist for a Friday night:

WPLJ with my favorite radio guy Ralphie Aversa.  Until he cues up Imagine Dragons' Radioactive ... can't for the life of me figure out why that song is successsful ...

and so ... I turn up Gavin DeGraw, Sweeter Live.

Concert Diaries Chapter Eight ~ Jones Beach

Yesterday, July 22, marked one year since seeing Gavin DeGraw in concert for the first time.  It was an odd little outdoor venue in a place called Big Flats.  I went alone on the 4-hour drive to the panhandle of New York State.  I don't mind doing things alone.  If I didn't, I'd never go anywhere; when you're single, you learn to go out alone.  It was also the first time I sat in the rain for this guy.

The following day I got up early drove home, picked up a friend and went to Gavin's concert at Rye Playland, just outside of New York City.  You know the place--it was the setting for some of the scenes in the Tom Hanks film, Big.  Remember the creepy fortune teller machine?  Yeah, there.  It's also the scene of the first time I met and spoke to Gavin.  It was the second time I sat in the rain.  A year ago today.

Since then I've been to 8 additional shows (one of those was in rain ...) and chatted with him on other occasions.

Tonight I'm in Jones Beach on Long Island (New York).  Rain is predicted and the sky was grey when I woke up.  I just know I'm getting wet tonight.  At least it's 86 degrees. I have a meet and greet tonight.  That's a paid-for (in this case) opportunity to meet the artist and say hello.  This time it also comes with "stuff" (t-shirt, poster, other miscellaneous things that I'm far too old to care about).  I just want to tell him thanks for changing my life and that the new music is amazing.  Because, as you know, he changed my life ... restoring health, hope and joy where there had been a sort of steadfast lethargy and general sense that this was all there was.

Jones Beach at low tide with Nikon Theater
under blue skies.  Gavin DeGraw under the stars and
not one drop of rain.

I'm always worried about driving in New York.  Even with my ever-present Loud Chick (GPS), I still make mistakes, the exits come up so quickly there and the construction and rearrangement of roads is continual.  So I left really early.  And made record time.  No traffic.  No driving snafus.  So I find myself in a near-empty parking lot three hours before the venue gates open.  Having thought this place was in a beach town (like New Jersey beaches) I'd thought I'd get lunch and hang out for a bit.  But Jones Beach is a public park with a concession stand.  And there's no where to go.  Diet coke on the beach it is then.  And The Script is sound checking over in the arena so it's not all bad.  And Gavin is making "vines" and generally entertaining people.  In other words, I found ways to fritter away that time.  And I got some sun.

At 5:00 I got into line for the meet and greet.  It was early but there were already folks there.  We had fun chatting together while we waited for "his people" to come collect us.  I met Hayley from the "message board."  She lives in Australia and this is her first trip to the U.S.  I knew from the board she was coming to the concert but didn't expect to run into her in the massive crowd.  There was another family waiting who had come from Israel.  There weren't all that many of us altogether.  A lovely young lady (I want her job) came for us around 6:00 and back to the buses we went.  Gavin's parents were standing backstage with a group of people who I presume were family or friends.  Since he's from upstate New York it's not surprising that they'd make the drive to Long Island.  His new tour manager was there to keep things moving along and someone else was taking pictures with each person's own camera.  (This is much nicer than waiting for a radio station to upload their pictures which is often how these things go when the meet and greet is being sponsored.)

I love Gavin--he's such a pro. I'm not sure he remembered me but he acted as if he did.  We talked about the tour and the new music.  He autographed my copy of Sweeter.  His "people" took several pictures of us chatting.  I didn't get to say all that I wanted because the "people" really kept an eye on the clock. Besides, I'd need a half hour in an empty Starbucks with him to really thank him for rescuing me.

My seats were only okay.  Despite getting on line the minute tickets became available, I don't have great seats at any of these shows.  That's a discussion--or a rant--for another time.  But my new camera is wonderful and the lens brings the far-away stage closer and in focus.  Of course, the user isn't steady or proficient so the pictures and video still leave a lot to be desired, as I found out afterwards.  Something to work on ...

Since Gavin is the opener, people are still arriving and it's still light out when he starts.  I want to stand up so badly but I'm there alone with no one to be my reinforcement and there are really old people behind me who asked if I was going to stand the entire time.  Why, of course, I wanted to say.  I'll be dancing too.  And singing ... but not loudly.  But I didn't.  I dutifully slunk into my seat where I could not contain my bouncing.  Finally about half way through when he sang Chariot, a song everyone recognized, people got to their feet.  Liberated from the chair, I felt much better.  And I'm sorry to say old people ... you're going to have to stand up too ... 'cause this is the way it's going to go all night.  He moved throughout the audience, winning over The Script and Train fans and left everyone wanting more.  I think we call that Mission Accomplished.

During the swap out of band equipment, I visited the concourse where I ran into Hayley who was elated at having had the meet and greet and wonderful performance.  We were excitedly comparing impressions and shoving not-completely-awful venue food into our mouths.  She suffers from the same thing many of us do:  an inability to eat on concert day.  We visited the "merch" table together but small sizes of everything were already sold out.  (Side note:  size small in tour t-shirts is now too big for me; I need XS.  Mind blowing to me still.)

The Script started while Hayley and I were hanging out but we didn't care.  We'd gotten what we came for.  Eventually though, we went back to our seats.  Danny of The Script is a really good singer and emotional but in a different way from Gavin. The crowd was thrilled.  It was clear there were a lot of Script fans in the stadium which was now packed (the show had sold out--no upgrades).  Actually, one of my Girl Scouts, a huge Script fan, was sitting in an upper deck with her mom--a birthday present from her parents and her first concert ever.  After their performance I texted them, "Is she okay or do I need to come up there and do a little CPR ..."  She's been beyond excited for weeks now.  The reply:  All she can say is "Oh my god.  Oh my god."

The change of equipment takes longer for Train so the second intermission is kind of long.  I'm anticipating that 6-minute animated introduction that you can now find on YouTube which I found so unnecessary in Virginia Beach but am happily surprised when the train whistle blows, the set chugs itself forward and the lights turn up on Pat Monahan.  All are on their feet again.  There is no "new" music since this album--California 37--has been out for well over a year.  They perform many songs from it and lots of prior hits, probably getting around to everyone's favorites.  The highlight of the Train set for me is Pat's duet with country singer Ashley Monroe:  Bruises.  Following that song she sings one of her own and tonight she keeps Pat onstage to sing Weed Instead of Roses--a really truthful song about a marriage in a rut.  Perhaps I like it so much because I recognize the subject matter and am acutely aware of how devastating ruts can be to a marriage.  But for the umpteenth time, I wonder how one so young, who is just engaged herself, can be so cognizant of old married pitfalls.  Songwriters have keen powers of observation.

At the third show on this tour, in Toronto, a special encore was added.  Pat invites Gavin, Ashley Monroe and Danny to come back out and they all perform The Weight by The Band.  It's clear from all the videos already online from performances in Toronto, Cleveland and Indianapolis that they love closing the show this way.  I cannot help but notice on these videos that the roar from the crowd when Gavin steps up for his solo verse is enormous in each venue.  Danny did not come back on stage as he was actually not well, although, you'd never have known it during their set.  The song was wonderful--the perfect way to close the night.

I met my Twitter/Facebook friend Matty after the show.  He introduced me to a couple of friends and we talked for a bit, took pictures and got excited for the next show we have together (September in Yonkers at the Casino).  My world has been so enriched with these meetings--virtual friendships that quickly become very real.

One odd thing that happened was that the high tide came in extra high last night due to the full moon (or nearly full).  The water actually rose to within the first few rows and those people were actually sort of sitting in the ocean for the latter part of the show.  It was the first time I can think of that I was happy to not be in the front row.

Driving back home I think Loud Chick made a mistake--I was following her instructions explicitly, not wanting to get lost in New York after midnight--and I found myself driving around side streets in The Bronx for a few minutes.  Eventually she figured it out and as I drifted back over the George Washington Bridge I was already getting ready for Saturday's show in Massachusetts.

A Sweeter day.