My Encounter with "Rainman"

Perhaps you've seen the Dustin Hoffman/Tom Cruise classic, "Rainman." It is a touching story about a man who discovers his true character when he is introduced to his autistic older brother and given stewardship over his care. The film won Best Picture in 1988 (the year I graduated from high school).

You may not know the back story. Rainman is, in part, based on Kim Peek--a native Utahan. I encourage you to read the details of Peek's life in this wikipedia article.

One day, I was on the same flight with Kim and his dad, Fran. I can't tell you when this was (the years all run together now) or where we were going (the flights all run together now). I remember seeing Kim in the gate area and hearing him talking loudly to people. It was very obvious that he had a mental deficiency.

I'm ashamed to write that my first thought was, "I hope he is in the back of the plane so that I don't have to hear him talk and carry on throughout the flight." When he boarded, he was seated with his dad several rows in front of me in the first class cabin. He continued to talk loudly and carry on. He was not uncomfortably disruptive; it was more of an annoyance than anything.

I had absolutely no idea who he was.

He engaged a Delta flight attendant who was so kind to him. He pulled out the Academy Award that screen writer Barry Morrow gave to him. (Morrow won the Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay for penning "Rainman.") His father spoke to the flight attendant, and the sweet woman was genuinely engaged and interested in what Mr. Peek and his son had to say. I could visibly see on her face that she was touched by the interaction.

It was one of the rare times that I was sitting on an aisle. (I always choose a window so I can sleep.) The flight attendant who had been speaking with Kim approached me. She told me that a woman seated by the Peeks was annoyed with the noise and asked if she could be moved to another seat in First Class and would I please switch seats with the woman.

Wow! Talk about a moment of humility. I had a chance to make right all of the negative thoughts I had had by trading seats with a woman. Her weakness became my opportunity to apologize to God. I had not spoken one negative word, but I knew in my heart that I had not been charitable. Of course, I agreed.

A few minutes later, the flight attendant returned and said that the woman switched with another passenger and that it wasn't necessary for me to move. I was satisfied that I "would have" moved if I could, but.... being denied the opportunity to make the actual sacrifice, I hope that my willingness to make things right in my heart was enough for God.

Kim Peek died on Saturday. Seeing local news stories about his life reminded me of the incident I have just described.

I wish that I could tell you that my experience that day on the Delta flight made me a better person. I'm not certain it did. I still think negative things about the people around me as I prepare to board flights. Perhaps I've just become a calloused or elitist traveler. The airport experience does not bring out the best in me and is rarely a place where I exercise charity.

In this entire experience, the person who taught me the most was not Kim Peek. It was not his loving father, Fran. It was not the person who wanted to change seats to escape "noise." The Delta flight attendant taught me the most. She was kind, understanding, and charitable toward Kim and Fran Peek. She was kind to them before she knew "who he was." To her, he was a passenger. When she learned of his fame, she did not appear to treat him any differently. What did appear to happen was that she opened her heart to be touched by the experience. Her heart was prepared for the experience. Because she was prepared, the experience came to her. That was what I learned that day from the Delta flight attendant.

In a cynical world, it can be ever more difficult to find the good. As a person, I have a responsibility to be kind. As a Christian, I have a responsibility to be charitable and non-judgmental. As a child of God, I have the opportunity to repent of my short-comings, re-group and try to be better the next day.

Kim and Fran Peet

My sympathies are with those who knew and loved Kim Peek. I'm grateful that his death afforded me the opportunity to recall a memory that includes a message that I really needed today--ALL people need to be treated with respect, kindness, patience and understanding. What a great reminder!

A Christmas Thought

I wrote this in 2002 to my friends and family. Seven years later when I thought about what I wanted to post for a Christmas message, this came to mind. I hope you and yours have a very Merry Christmas and take time to remember the people in your life that matter most to you.

***

Illinois Christmas 2002

I've already sent most of you Christmas cards which you may or may not get on time. I was thinking today of an experience that I had last night that I just couldn't shake. It seems appropriate this time of year to share thoughts and feelings of the season. So, if this is smarmy, sentimental or too much for you, I apologize. It happens. This message is going to some of my closest friends and a few relatives. I hope you can appreciate the meaning and intent.

I've been reflecting upon the many, many blessings that I have in my life. In short, it's been one hell of a year....it's also been one hell of a life (not to be confused with that perennial classic "It's a Wonderful Life ;-) This year has brought much joy into my life. There have also been trials and burdens and "opportunity for growth" (which is just a nice way to explain a trial). At the end of each day, I feel very, very blessed. I recognize God's hand in all things in my life.

On Friday night December 20th, I was traveling home from an account in Kansas City. It was the last account that I had to do for the year, and it was a one of those "great" presentations....where you remember why you love your job. I flew from Kansas City to St. Louis, and instead of continuing on to Chicago, I got off the plane, rented a car and decided to drive home. I just wanted to "get home." A connecting flight to Chicago would have delayed me by almost a day.

There is nothing that heals the soul like a solitary road trip. Once I survived a packed airport and urban traffic, I found myself headed north on I-55. All that awaited me was 2 1/2 hours of flat highway, a few stars and bad radio stations!

I love being from Illinois; it's important part of who I am. I also love coming back to visit because I have such wonderful memories of friends and family and my formative years. I'm always amazed at how rural Illinois is. I always thought that I lived in a "city," but the truth is that the only real city in Illinois is Chicago. Illinois is laden with farmland and rural communities. Many of these communities are poor, and the outward appearance and condition reflects this depressed state.

As I drove that flat highway in the darkness, I saw a beautiful site. Far in the distance, I saw the outline of a star of lights suspended in the darkness. The points of the star were not taught or even. Some of the bulbs were burnt out, but the impression of a lighted star was evident and undeniable. As I approached the star, I realized that it was affixed to the top of a grain silo on a remote farm. That made me smile. Only in Illinois would I see a Christmas decoration perched atop a grain silo. As I continued on, more and more stars appeared in the farming communities. Some were nailed to barns, others to rooftops and many to grain silos. I thought of the wearied old farmers who climbed ladders to continue this Christmas tradition. I also thought of a new generation of farmers who are carrying on the traditions of fathers, grandfathers and great-grandfathers. My guess is that the tradition of hanging the Christmas star has been around for a while.

I found much meaning in these Christmas tributes. It was the star that lead the wisemen on a year-long journey to find the infant Jesus. It was the stars that lit my journey home last night. I recognize that most of our Midwestern farmers come from humble means, and it touched my heart that the effort was made to celebrate the Christmas season. The residual of that was that my way was lit home, too.

If you've ever traveled that dark path home, you'll understand and appreciate the meaning of a lit path.

I hope that you take the time to appreciate the little things this holiday season. I know that the economy is tough and that many lives have been changed in unforeseen ways. I hope that you remember your family and take time to visit with them. For better or for worse, they are still your family, and they are very important.

To my dear friends, I hope that wherever you are this Christmas that you relish in the unique things about where you live. May you find your own, lighted path this holiday season!

I wish you much peace and happiness!

Merry Christmas,

Wendy

Christmas Concert

It is a bitter sweet moment when you realize that we have attended our last elementary school Christmas concert for one of the kids. I look back on all of the elementary school performances, and it makes me a bit weepy. Dominique is the last one in elementary school, and I still remember her performances in 1st grade! What is even more crazy is that it seems like yesterday when we went to Bradley's 6th grade performances, and now he is a senior in high school!

Dom has been playing the violin for 2 years, and she's really improved since last year. (Last years' performances are in the history of this blog if you're interested.) She took violin lessons over the summer with Mary Ann Petersen (the violin teacher at the elementary school). She fights us sometimes about violin and has vowed not to continue in junior high (which makes us sad). But for now, we have these performances to enjoy!

We hope you enjoy them, too!

Jingle Bells

Holly Jolly Christmas

We Wish You a Merry Christmas

Ah...the makeup battles

I don't really remember exactly when I began wearing make up. I know that it wasn't a discussion point; it just kind of happened. I'm sure I "borrowed" makeup from my mom. The next door lady was an Avon Lady, so I got lots of free stuff from her. Sometimes she paid me for babysitting with make up.

I don't remember having fights with my mom about makeup, probably because my mom wore a lot of makeup herself, and there really wasn't a lot she could say anything. I, however, have not been so lucky in escaping "the makeup debate." Now, Mariah...she looks hideous without makeup. It's a fact. She'll even say it's so. When she hit 12, it was a gift to all of us when she started slathering on the foundation. She has always gone way overboard on the eye make up. Last year, I had to pay a professional 50 bucks to photo edit her eyes in our family picture so they didn't look like two black spiders. (True story).

Elle...oh, Elle. She is beautiful without makeup. She has a wonderful skin tone, and I hate to see her cover it up. We agreed (finally) that this year she could begin wearing mascara. It makes her eyes look really pretty. I don't think she wears anything but eye makeup. She really doesn't need it.

I have an illogical aversion to eye liner. I think it is hideous! I especially hate thick, black eyeliner. I REALLY hat thick, black eyeliner on Elle....for all of the reasons I've mentioned.

I know, I know, I know...."somethings don't really matter." "Let her express herself with her makeup at least it's not a tattoo." (A-hem) "Pick your battles." "It's not worth the fight." I know. I really do know all of those things. But let's face it, I'm imperfect (and that is an understatement!)

The other night Elle was in tears as we were negotiating when she could wear the offensive eye liner. First I said, "9th Grade." She didn't like that answer. I finally said that we'd re-evaluate the situation in February....just in time for her to get all over-done for Valentine's Day *sigh*.
I wrote the following poem for Elle. I'm not a poet, and I definitely don't have the panache for iambic pentameter or any pentameter for that matter. But I meant what I wrote. I gave it to her (cowardly, I left it for her to find before school). It might work for a few months, I think in February that I'll be forced to look the other way as she applies more eye-liner than Adam Lambert.

Those Beautiful Eyes

Elle, Oh, Elle…what can I say?
You’re growing faster and faster every day.

The girl in the picture has beautiful eyes
I wonder if she can realize….

Those eyes are the window to her soul.
Grey-green in color with a black center like coal

Your eyes tell when you’re happy, sad or upset;
Sometimes your eyes say you’re filled with regret.

Your eyes help you see the beauty all around:
A fine painting, the clouds…beauty abounds

With those eyes, you look for the love of your dad.
He looks back with his eyes when you’re feeling bad.

Your eyes have seen heaven before you were born.
Your eyes will see God again on resurrection morn.

Do you see how wonderful and special your eyes are?
Do you see why I want them to be how they are?

Some girls line their eyes with black lines thin or fat--
Your eyes are so perfect there’s no need for that!

I know you want to go your own way.
I know you disagree with what I have to say.

Know that I love you and your beautiful eyes.
I know that someday I will compromise.

For now, however, let those eyes shine
Before we surround them with a black line.

My Thanksgiving Memory

Dean and I just had our 6th Thanksgiving together, and it was our 5th Thanksgiving in a row with the kids. For all but one of those, we've cooked our own dinner at home. We've got our Thanksgiving routine down, and by default, created our own tradition.

Dean always makes the turkey.
Elle always sets the table.
Bradley is always our "whatever you need" guy.
I always make the mashed potatoes.
Domi is the "will you go get this" runner.
Mariah avoids the kitchen at all costs.

This is the one time that we break out the "good dishes" and bust out the campaign glasses (Sparkling cider). We have a nice table cloth and cloth napkins. Elle sets out candles. We dust off the "real" silver silverware. It's a nice presentation, and it has become our tradition.

Today (as with every year) we went around the table and mentioned what we were thankful for. Each year the list includes family and friends. As we devoured our meal, I asked each person about their favorite Thanksgiving memory. Every single person mentioned a memory with extended family. The kids all mentioned their grandparents in Washington and the fond memories they have of Thanksgiving meal preparations. Dean mentioned Thanksgivings in Kansas when he was a kid. My favorite Thanksgiving memory also occurred during my young childhood.

It was Thanksgiving 1975. My mom, my dad, my sister and I lived in Millington, Tennessee. My parents came and got me out of Kindergarten early that day so that we could make the trip to Illinois for Thanksgiving. My teacher sent me home with all of the handmade Thanksgiving decorations I had made. I remember nothing about the actual drive; I'm assuming I was asleep. I just know that I couldn't WAIT to get to Aunt Donna's house!!!

My dad's whole family was there (minus the Wisconsin contingency). Uncle Bill, Aunt Susie, Dad, Aunt Donna, Aunt Janine, Uncle Danny, Aunt Judy...and all of the cousins. (Only Clint and Larry were missing.) My Grandma and Grandpa Danley were also both there. My parents had an old reel to reel video camera, and I actually have a few precious minutes of footage from that day.

Why is this one of my favorite memories? I remember feeling loved by all of my extended family. I remember being caught up in the chaos of dinner preparations, football, hanging with the cousins. I also distinctly remember sitting on my Grandpa's lap that day after dinner. He told me about the day I was born. I was born in Anaheim, California on March 21, 1970. My grandpa was ill in Illinois on that day. I was born on his birthday, and because of that, he told me I was special to him! It made my day.

I didn't have very many meaningful interactions with Grandpa Danley. He died when I was just 11 years old. That brief interaction is one of the few memories I have of him. I'm OK with that. I believe that families are forever, and I believe that I will have many opportunities to sit down together and discuss whatever we want.

Here is an old picture that I have from that day. Unfortunately, it has become a bit water damaged over the 35 years that I've had it. When I see this picture, I look right past the yellow speckles. Grandpa is at the head of the "kids table." It means a lot that he chose to sit with his grandkids!Yes, that is me and my sister in matching Hee-Haw overalls! I'm not ashamed to admit that we used to watch Hee-Haw, and I actually liked it!!!

In this picture (looking at the camera) Billy and Scott. Grandpa at the head of the table. Backs to the camera: Kevin, Julie and me (with the long blonde hair).

I'm grateful for many things in my life, but above all, I'm most thankful for my family. Near or far, old or new in this world or into the next....I'm grateful for them all!

Gravy Boat or Neti Pot?

So, this is one of those Thanksgiving moments that we'll forget years down the road, so I will document in cyberspace. (And assume that cyberspace will not go away for a while).

I've used a neti pot for about a year. I saw it on Oprah one day, and Dr. Oz made it look easy. I've got to tell you, I love my neti pot. For those of you who don't know what it is, it's a way to clean our your sinus passages. It sounds really gross, but it's really awesome...especially if you suffer from allergies like I do. Anyway...google it if you want to know more about how it works.

It looks like this:This year we bought two new "kitchen things" in relation to Thanksgiving. We purchased a really nice turkey roasting pan and a gravy boat. We've always put gravy in the glass measuring cup, but a gravy boat is more classy, so we splurged.

The gray boat looks like this:I will admit that there are similarities in their shape and color. However, one is clearly a gravy boat and the other is clearly not. On two separate occasions, both Dom and Elle asked while referencing the gravy boat, "Is this your nose pot?" (Nose pot is what we affectionately call it.)

Of course the answer is, "No."

Interestingly, I couldn't get either Dom or Elle to eat the gravy. I think the thought that it might have been the neti pot was too much for them!

More Thanksgiving photos to follow!

I'm a PhD Candidate at the University of Utah!!!!

Wow!

I have to tell you that on January 1st of this year, it was not in my plan to purse my PhD. I'd thought about it, but I never REALLY gave it serious consideration. I moved to Utah in August 1995, and at that time, I enrolled in the teacher certification program at the U. I thought that I wanted to be a high school social studies teacher. I went all the way through the program at the U (minus one Utah History class and my student teaching). What changed? I got a chance to be in the classroom during one of my semesters, and I couldn't take the kids. Seriously....and that was 14 years ago. Now, it is perhaps fitting that I have 3 teenagers!!!!

I switched gears, and I applied for my masters in political science at the University of Utah. I was rejected. You read that right. I was flat out rejected. I was devastated. At that time, they didn't offer a masters in political science, they only offered a PhD track, and my grades were not good enough. I knew that, but I only wanted my masters. No go.

So, then I applied for the MPA program. I LOVED the MPA program at the U. I was about 1/3 of the way through the program when I took a job at SCT (now SunGard Higher Education). My career required travel, and I was forced to withdraw from the program. Back in 1998, the U had few online options (and still do have surprisingly few social science programs offered on line). I like to finish what I start, so in about 2000, I began looking for a way to continue my education. Don't get me wrong, my career is challenging, rewarding...and great....I just wanted to be intellectually stimulated in a way that didn't deal with software, sales and marketing. Pursuing my academic interests has provided me satisfaction in a completely different way.

I found Tim Luke and the On Line Master Program in political science at Virginia Tech. You can find a lot of MBAs on line and some MPA programs, but I challenge you to find an advanced degree in social science from an R1 university. VT's program is unique. It was designed for people like me, and I thoroughly enjoyed my program. It was challenging, and it helped me to be a better thinker and a better writer. I am proud of my thesis, and I worked hard for my degree. I earned it. Some contend that online degrees are somehow "lesser" than other degrees. I can see how that might be in some cases, but I have a degree from Virginia Tech! I took the whole family to Blacksburg in 2007, and I walked at graduation. I thought that might be the end.

I remember on graduation day, one of my thesis committee members asked me what was next. I threw out the idea of the PhD. I got an interesting response. It was a response that has stuck with me for two years. Is there a place in academia for someone like me? I've had a lot of life experience. I've had several jobs, and I've had a great 12 year career. I have a family. I've traveled the world. I'm not a "traditional" academic. I don't want to be a famous writer. I'm not necessarily interested in publishing studies that will change the world. I do want to contribute to the discipline, but I don't plan on being a poli sci "rock star." Was there a place for me? I think so. I think academia could use more people like me....mix it up a bit....bring a different perspective.....

This summer I was at Mt. SAC in Walnut, California. I did a presentation for the President and his board, and afterward, the VP of Enrollment had a 2 minute conversation with me that changed my life. I firmly believe the timing was right for the idea to be planted in my mind. He had done his EdD at Utah, and he just mentioned it in passing. The next day, I called him to quiz him about his experience in the program there. I was considering an EdD or a PhD in poli sci. I decided to "go for it," and applied for poli sci.

I've had tremendous support from Dr. Tim Luke, Dr. Georgeta Pourchot, Dr. Michael Bagley and my former manager, Dave Becker. They all wrote letters for me, and I'm very grateful.

What is my endgame? I don't know. I was talking with a dear friend today from Croatia, and he said it best, "It will all crystallize at the end; it always does." He's so right. My life has been a wonderful journey of opportunity and calculated risk. For now, I'm grateful I have a job with the best software company in the world! I'm grateful for the flexibility to pursue an education. I'm grateful for my husband who understands the words "I'm working on a paper this weekend." I'm excited to become acquainted with the other PhD candidates and get to work!!!!

Yes, it comes in email these days!