I'm a Gypsy

It's true. I am a gypsy, at least part gypsy -- it's a part of my honest to God blood line. I swear. It wasn't until the other night when my friend compared me to gypsies that I truly took ownership of that part of my background. I've never really been one for ethnic stereotypes you know, all Irish drink a lot, all Germans like beer, all Native Americans do rain dances, I could go on for hours -- but now, I'm starting to see a little bit more relevance in where I come from as it relates to how I am today.

My friend looked at me and asked if I knew why gypsies never had any rights and continued to answer saying that they never had any rights, couldn't vote, hold office, etcetera because they were never anywhere long enough to put down roots, to really become part of the community and then he paralleled that with me and my lifestyle and asked me how I made that work.

If it's one thing you'll learn about me, whether you've know me for 20 seconds or 20 years, is that I am constantly on the move. I live and thrive on change. But his question made me uncomfortable, not because I'm ashamed of how I am or because of the accusation of being rootless, but because it's not something I'm fully sure that I've reconciled with myself yet. He's right, I am rootless, I am the equivalent to a tree that you buy at a nursery, I've got a trunk, and branches and leaves but my roots -- well they're kind of there, but they're pretty shallow and short.

So I stood there for a second, slowly walking with him, and I thought about it. And I looked at him and then thought about it some more and then I explained, hopefully coherently, that this is who I am, and where I'm supposed to be and what I'm supposed to be doing. He's right, I don't have roots, at least not the ones he meant, but not all people are supposed to and just because you aren't in the same tri-county area with the people you love doesn't mean you love them any less, it just requires a little more effort.

People either stay in contact or they don't. Some people lose touch of each other and there is nothing wrong with that. If we all had each and every friend that we've ever had around until the day we died we wouldn't have the people that are truly our core, we would just have a bunch of so-so friends that when looked at on an individual basis wouldn't mean a whole lot to us. And having moved as much as I have, I don't take it personally if I've lose touch with someone, sometimes it's my fault, sometimes it's their's and sometimes we're both at fault. But either way, it's the way that life works, people come and people go each for their own God-ordained reason. And if those I cross those people's paths again (which has happened on more than one occasion, in different cities, states and even countries than I knew them in before) then so be it, that's great. Speaking to this point is my dear friend, Chris, who I just recently got back in touch with. Some friends are just those kinds of friends who don't need to speak to each other all the time. And even though it is weeks, sometimes months, later they can call the other because something made them think of that person and they can pick up like they just talked yesterday. Chris is one of those friends, we picked up like not a day had passed and it was and still is great. Those are my favorite kind of friends, and that's not to say that I'm lazy with relationships because I'm not. I work very hard to keep the ones that I have because they mean something to me. In the same light I work to start new ones. But friendship to me isn't about talking all the time, it's about caring enough for some person and having enough respect to understand that life gets crazy and that even though life is crazy neither of those people care any less about the other person.

I found a quote that fits exactly what I'm trying to express via my sweet friend Tara that says:

"A friendship that can be ended didn't ever start."
-Mellin de Saint-Gelais, Oeuvres poétique

I explained all of this to Mike and hopefully it made some sort of sense. I realize that this mobile life I lead is not one understood by a whole lot of people, it's a very different upbringing and a very different perspective. Many understand my mobility no more than I can understand many people's immobility and the desire to stay in the same place for years and years.

With all of that being said I know that I might seem a slightly non-chalant when it comes to friendships, I'm really not. And I do probably take advantage of the fact that most of the time people will be there when I get back. That's not a good thing, and it's something I'm working on. But I know and believe with all my heart that the people who want to be around will be there for me and will want to be there for me regardless of where I am. That being said I also understand that people can't handle the whole long-distance friendship thing, it's just a difference of mannerisms, personalities, and perspective. Neither person is right, neither is wrong, it's just life.

And so this all leads both of us to no real conclusion, but I guess maybe at least a little bit more of an understanding: I am a gypsy. And I do have roots, just not geographic ones. I don't have a lot of life-long friendships but the few I do have are ones that I would fight and die for. I come from a family made strong from years of moving to new places, experiencing new things and enduring hardships together when we were all we had. I have a great faith in God that keeps me grounded and hopeful for the future that I know he has promised for me. I have roots, they're just different and I don't have as many as other people. And I'm okay with that, at least I am now. So, to my friend who put me on the spot, thank you. Without meaning to you really forced me to think about and reconcile with something that I hadn't yet and it helped me grow. I hope you're one of the ones who stays in touch.

Post 4th of July Post

Hey All!

I can only say that I hope everyone's 4th of July post was as fantastically fabulous as mine was. I went out to the Wagner's for their 4th Annual 4th of July awesomeness and if I do say so myself, I think this year was the best year yet. The poster that creatively inclined Michelle created for the event promised a special guest and after much anticipation and excitement the special guest appeared about half way through the party -- it was Uncle Sam -- in. the. flesh. AKA, it was Travis dressed in an Uncle Sam costume, but hey, it's the same thing, and probably better!

After Uncle Sam greeted everyone and we finally coaxed sweet 3 1/2 year old Ella to give Uncle Sam a friendly wave instead of a cry of terror we somehow got the GENIUS idea, to hold an impromptu "Heck yeah, go America!" parade around the Deerwood Park neighborhood of Northwest Omaha. Carmen graciously provided transportation to Uncle Sam as she was the owner of a car with a sunroof. So Uncle Sam hopped in the car and poked out of the sun roof and we were off. Initially myself and Mike were going to follow in my car video taping the whole thing, but then the rest of the gang wanted to join in so we walked behind the car. Carmen, however, had a little bit of a lead foot so we gave up. However, as fate would have it, we gave up in front of another barbeque that thought we were just hilarious, so they cheerfully offered for us to pile into the bed of their pick up truck and we would follow Carmen...and like good little boys and girls we hopped into the strangers' car and off we went in pursuit of Uncle Sam. After a good drive around the neighborhood, perking up barbeques and bringing smiles to all faces we found ourselves having created a new tradition: next year will be the 2nd annual "Heck yeah, go America!" parade. Next year's will be better organized.

After the parade it was time to begin set up for the fireworks extravaganza and as guys worked at setting that up the rest of us sat there, chatted and had a good time. The fireworks were excellent and although we had a couple of close calls, one zinging by Vonnie's ear and Travis' pant leg almost catching fire, we all made it out alive and in one piece. With the exception of my left middle finger...I burnt it on the grill, luckily that was the only casualty of the evening and it was a minor one at that.

Definitely a 4th of July to remember, it's still my favorite holiday.

Plans and preparations continue for the big move to St. Louis which is now less than two weeks away and while I am getting slightly nervous I am still mostly exciting for what lies ahead.

Next on the agenda tonight, reading up on more paperwork for the new job. Tonight's topic: grad school tuition assistance...I know it's exciting, please try to contain yourselves. Also on the schedule for the evening: remembering why I don't make plans with people.

Picture time:



My final moments with Harvey the bunny, before we sent him off in explosive style.



Anthony with Frederick the Turkey after we sent him bottle-rocketing into space...Wait, did I say we had bottle rockets, of course we didn't, those are illegal. *ahem*



Uncle Sam in all his awesome glory.



My view of the parade from the bed of the strangers' truck.

Happy {belated} Independence Day Y'all!