Living In The Moment

Living in the present ~ it's always been a strength of mine (with a few ruts here and there, just so I could say I'd experienced a glitch., muddled through, and came out on the other side).

I guess that's why this morning has come, not as a bit of surprise, but as a thief in the night.

Oh, I knew the anticipated end date.

I discussed the anticipated end date.

I even packed bags into the wee hours of the morning based on the anticipated (and fully realized) end date.

Why is it, then, that this morning, bleary-eyed though I am, I am a tad bit startled that this little home away from home will soon give way to another; that the familiar faces and routine will no longer be such; and yes ~ dare I say it? Life returns to normal.

Familiar.
Comfortable.
Family.

My bed.
My coffeemaker.
My front door.

Husband.
Children.
Grandson.
Dog.

Wow.

I'm leavin' on a jet plane. Don't know when I'll be back to the lovely state of Michigan again.

But it's been a great visit.
Thanks for having us.

Boyfriends, Girlfriends And Movie Stars

I have a recollection that when her name and credits popped up on imdb, I had an immediate desire to meet her ~ a gorgeous redhead with a trivia tidbit: that of widow. Given my history of widowhood, this intrigued me . . . but I daresay the red hair intrigued me more!

The day of filming the auditorium scene (yes, the same scene wherein the young boy had his unfortunate incident!) I sat behind The Sound Man, sequestered away from the traffic patterns and hustle and bustle that presented itself.

That's when she walked up, skirt raised high, requesting help.

It seems her microphone, which had been secured by a velcro band about her calf, had fallen, and she couldn't pull it back up.

She chatted gaily with the Sound Assistant as reparations were made, then, at call, turned and took her position once again.

I was mesmerized. She was beautiful, and contained a delightful personna. I couldn't wait to introduce myself.

It didn't take long for the opportunity to arise.

She states that I approached her ~ and I surely must have ~ however, my recollection of that moment is dim in comparison the the immediate connection she made with L'il Man.

Who was this woman, who could charm adults and babies alike?

I soon discovered the vital nutrient that held the babe and actress together: in her spare time, The Actress was a doula.

Of course.

I should have noted it sooner. Silly me. lol

However, the subtle weave of connecting young and old; of generations; of family and new life - the characteristic of noting value in others was so apparent in her demeanor that I instantly moved from being mesmerized to finding an instant friend.

Friend indeed! Evenings spent playing Rummikub and Catan, laughing at each other's wit, enduring lengthy and somewhat-comical-except-for-the-interminable-ness-of-the-whole-ordeal meals . . .

I was sad when it was time for her to go.

Yet one thing remained crystal clear.

The Actress had a flair for noting the obvious in nostalgic filmography ways - as marked by her repeated phrase from [Young?] Frankenstein, tossing her head back and cackling loudly in a Germanic brogue:

"Yes, he is my boyfriend!"

Boyfriend, indeed.

:D

All In The Family

Month's of practice and set building are behind Aubrey, as she now puts the final touches on her character, in readiness for Friday night's curtain call.

Seems none of us can escape the theatre these days, what with Studio Mom and Studio Dad having their respective duties of driving and call times . . . yet, the GilGuy has once again pulled back his sleeves and accomplished an extraordinary feat that should certainly place him on the Teamsters Union in the Prop Department. Take a look:

This camera my friends, didn't exist night before last. A replica of a real life 1930's camera made while-you-wait by the industrious, ingenius Gil.

{applause}

Isn't it amazing??

Aubrey wasted no time trying it out, checking fit, durability, handling . . . she's got to be ready for the big night, ya know. :D

Wish her well ~ and Gil will be sure to have pictures for us by the end of the weekend!

Wonder Woman, Meet Cast And Crew ~

Since we had the day off, I decided to get a jump on the laundry. It would save me the mad rush over the weekend, and, besides ~ I wanted to wear my pedal pushers again.

Wash - Dry - I knew the score - until Ooops!

I forgot about the clothes in the dryer until late . . .

I was reminded while talking to the office clerk of the hotel. One of the office personnel from Production came in, asking about the availability in the laundry room. I vocalised my apparent lack of dutiful laundry activity, and dashed out the door to remedy the situation. As I did, I overhead the office clerk discussing with the Office Gal about the broken machines.

The very ones I'd outsmarted.

I stood folding clothes when she walked in. Casually sauntering up to an available machine, she looked at each one carefully. I nodded affirmatively at her choice.

"That's the one I used earlier." I offered.

She began loading her wash.

Clink, clink, clink . . . her quarters dropped into the slots. She pushed the handle in and . . .

IT STUCK!

Faster than a speeding bullet, Wonder Woman appeared on the scene! (That would be me.) I turned quickly and said, "Oh! That happened to me earlier . . . let me help you!!"

I jammed the handle quickly, attempting to get the quarters to drop . . .

nothing.

I began pounding on the sides of the change holder like a mad-woman -er, I mean - with my superpower strength - to no avail.

The Office Gal meekly attempted a save of her own.

Wonder Woman pushed her out of the way. "Here, let me try again!" Doubling my efforts, I pounded, er, I mean, Wonder Woman used her superhuman strength on the change box, then smacked the top of the machine very hard. Grasping the handle once again, and pushing with all my {cough} her might, we both heard the coins drop, and water begin to run instantly.

Wonder Woman stepped back, and smiled. Her job was done.

Then, suddenly, an awareness came over me at the Herculean feat I had just accomplished, with great fanfare, in front of an *almost* total stranger - certainly to her incredulous view; at the very least unrequested . . .

Giggling, she backed out of the laundry, thanking me profusely.

There I stood, staring after her, wondering just how foolish I had *really* looked ~ and if she had wanted my help at all . . .

:sigh:

LOLOL

The Best Things In Life . . .

. . . are digitalized!

How many self-portraits does it take to get that perfect shot?

For me, often, it takes many ~ with a ton of halarity sandwiched inbetween takes, as I and my portrait partner laugh and guffaw over the expressions we end up capturing.

"Deep Six that one!" is the usual rule.

Once in awhile, though, I get lucky. Like the above snap I caught with Keller: one shot. Clean as a whistle, with an ADORABLE smiling baby face looking into the camera to boot!

Twice in a row? Is it possible? Why, yes! It is!

Take The Aussie and I, for example: a flick of the wrist, an unusual angle . . . and CLICK! Gotcha! A keeper for the photo album:

Then there are those that are {shrugging my shoulders} okay - but nothing to write home about, necessarily. A moment in time, captured for the memory banks. The Aussie's Mum and I, exhausted after a very, very long week:

Little did we know at the time that what we thought was the Big Hurrah! entering into a peaceful weekend was only the start of the shenanigans the teens took us on . . .

As the old sayin' goes: "Hang on, Nellie! We're headed for the rhubarb!" Take a peek for yourself at My Son, The Actor for a run down of all things holiday weekend.

Service With A Smile

Presently, my son, The Actor, has a bevy of personnel swarming about him almost at any given moment. Handlers of sorts, as they manage minute details such as the aligning of buttons on a shirt, hair in place, makeup perfect. Oh, and let's not forget the "Where is he?" question that might swirl at times, given that his boundless energy is very apparent to all.

Why then, would it be necessary of him to request of me, his mother, that she take a stroll down to the snack bar and glean for him the most appropriate food stuff item and/or refreshment?

Because there is no time to waste, people. Easier it be brought to him, than he go gallivanting about, only to be lost to the handlers once again. Service with a smile, he receives. After all ~ this action carries great pays off for me. Consider this:

1. I've gotten more exercise walking the grounds of the set this week than I did all last month. and . . .
2. On our down time, Israel returns to the doting, loving, caring brother he's always been, and takes up a bit of Keller duty, just to give me some space.

It's a nice trade, don't you think?

:D

An Extra Hand

I had intended to phone ahead and look into local child care services in Michigan before we arrived, but the best intentions on my part were waylaid by the sudden departure we were exposed to.

Ah, well.

Until.

Enter the close of the first day of filming: the momma of a stand in for the lead character drew close to admire L'il Man in my arms. Chatting, chatting, chatting . . .

Discovery.

Seems her daughter had been granted permission to be on set, whilst her brother worked.

The permission relieved her of her normal and customary childcare duties back home.

Hm.

BINGO!

Keller-man spent a couple of hours yesterday in the care and keeing of a delightful young lady, allowing me to be up close and personal to the action when Israel was in front of the camera.

Delightful for everyone.

However, it would seem that I've added to my already burgeoning brood: not one, not two, but MANY people asked her 'where is your mother?' - referring to me.

Seems we look quite a bit alike. :D

Maybe, for Keller's sake, that's not so bad! :D

Introducing ~ {drum roll, please!}

It's a Newsy Day at ChoiceCentral, Choosers! Due to the "new page" or "new chapter" being written in The Adventure, the decision has been made to spin off a new blog dedicated to our entertainment industry journey.

My Son, The Actor is a brand new addition to ChoiceCentral - the place to find all things 'groupie' related, journey-journaled in the days ahead. :D A main link will be supplied here soon, as well as a groovy new pad furnished for the rather spartan room currently sporting the very first post of our Michigan story: First Class Freak Out.

You'll not want to miss the party, now expanded to two blogospheric rooms! :D

Much is lined up for today . . . don't miss out! Seat belts fastened?? I heard the motor start!

Airwaves and Airplanes

Keller now asks for music. He'll point to the closest musical device - be it the radio dial, an ipod, or a computer screen which gives him access to "Choo Choo Soul" - then begin a physical gyration that includes approximations for snapping fingers, wiggling hips and clucking tongue.

Totally. Cute.

At this particular airport, however, the one we're sitting at, patiently waiting because we arrived w a y y y too early, music is piped into the overhead sound sytem. No buttons necessary.

That gives tremendous reason to laugh outloud when suddenly L'il Man will stop dead in his tracks and cut a John-Travolta-Saturday-Night-Fever groove out of nowhere. Much to the enjoyment of the host of other [patiently waiting] passengers.

So begins our trip.

Join us for the journey, Choosers. This should be good. :D

Grounded.

Words are inadequate to relate the effects of the adrenaline rush that accompanied Israel's little prank on Friday; the waiting surrounding word on his callbacks from 2000 miles away; and the subsequent landing of a role thereof. It rendered me sleepless; overcharged with thoughts moving at the speed of light. The effect I describe placed me in some sort of weird-o dimension that I could not seem to find the edge of, in order to pull my mental and emotional being back to a stable state.

It was for this reason that I found great solace in the two hour window of time alone while I waited for Aubrey, outside of the community theatre, as she rehearsed inside.

It was this window of time in which I chose to settle my thoughts by focusing on the Word of God, and allowing my eyes to read nothing else; my mind to consider no less; and my body to remain completely relaxed in His presence.

The Lord was faithful to meet me, and calm me; stabilize me, ground me. I was grateful.

I slept, and awoke yesterday morning. My husband and I completed two more square foot garden boxes. We were awaiting the arrival of our son, who had been picked up at the airport the night before by his oldest sister, Bethany. Just as we finished the task before us, here they were.

My boy looked as though he had just tumbled out of bed (he had) and he meandered over to us. Our intial conversations were marked with love and joy at seeing each other once again, and congratulations and questions about his whirlwind experience. Soon, Israel turned to greet the DellDog, stationed very nearby on a stake out.

I loved what I was seeing. My son was grounded.

No inflated ego; no bravado; just all boy, glad to be home.

Soon, Gil and I could hear the sound of Israel's guitar wafting over the spring air through his bedroom window, evidence that he was settling in. We smiled.

The day would continue, and we would fellowship with our friends, study the Word together, and then, returning home, as a family, tidy our house.

We'd watch That Darn Cat!; Gil and I would issue parental corrections and engage in family conversations. Popcorn would be munched, and Keller would be played with.

It was a beautiful day. I was grateful.

We can only guess at what shifts might occur over the next segment of The Adventure journey, but through it all, our prayer is that we be vessels of honor unto His glory, producing His fruit, unto His intents and purposes.

Through it all, may we be grounded.

It's Official. It's True. It's Real.

Somebody pinch me!


Meet "Garrett" in 2010.

Coming soon, to a theatre near you!

{snoopydance!}

:D

A Real Life LA Drama

[Scene 1]

I was exhausted.

I'd run a marathon two days getting the logistics of Israel's LA plan in place, then executing those plans. I arrived home from the airport after a grueling day, ready to hit the sack.

My only need was that I speak to my son, giving me the knowledge that he'd arrived safely in LA.

The phone call came right after he made his landing. Once that task item was checked off my list, I went to bed, asleep before my head hit the pillow.

***********
[Scene 2]

It was Keller who prodded me awake, my half groggy eyes squinting open as the sunlight poured into the bedroom. I could tell it was earlier than usual. No use trying to gain a few more winks . . . L'il Man was in full force already. I stumbled out into the kitchen.

Groggily I prepared my morning java, the GilGuy buzzed cheerily about.

"Any calls from LA?" I queried.

"None." he replied. I meandered over to the power source of my cell phone. Mildly surprised, I exclaimed, "Oh! I've two text messages!" while opening them, anticipating LA news.

My eyes blinked; then read again the words:

"I'm in security. They found that I'm a minor." two identical texts, one after another. They had arrived shortly after I had gone to bed.

My mind whirred and wheeled, kicking into high gear in spite of the lack of coffee at the early hour. Curiosity turned to an adrenaline rush as I questioned my husband once again. No calls? How weird.

Logic and reason quickly overtook the adrenaline.

If, by some reason, Israel had been detained, it would have been via an internal security force of the [national airline carrier]. And, at that juncture, his arrival at destination, why stop him then??

Yet, logic played tug-of-war with my mind by accessing the events of the evening prior.

You see, previous to his boarding the nonstop flight, he had checked in at the electronic kiosk, which did not request any information about necessary add-ons. (Due to the logistical factors, we had chosen a carrier that still considered my boy a minor, and required that he travel as such: an Unaccompanied Minor, complete with a hefty fee and a stewardess escort.) We expected the electronic intake to request any such information from us, but it did no such query. Therefore, after obtaining his boarding pass, I scanned the horizon for an airline associate to assist us with the UA portion of the ticket.

I viewed line upon line of 20-deep kiosk passengers, awaiting their turn, with nary an airline official in sight. Baggage handlers were nearby, scuttling bags from kiosks to the revolving belt against the back wall ~ but it was obvious they were not equipped to take funds, nor crown my almost-15-year-old-boy with a moniker he'd rather not wear.

A few minutes passed, and I turned to Israel. "Well," shrugging my shoulders as I spoke. "Let's see if they let you through the security gate. If they don't, they can call a worker for us."

The process was swift and efficient, of which I was glad. We were running just-on-time-hinging-on-too-late, rather than with time to spare. An I love you! sent him off, and the deed was done.

My son was travelling alone.

***********
[Scene 3]

Within 20 minutes of discovering the text messages that read "I'm in security. They found that I'm a minor" I decided my course of action.

It was 5 am in LA ~ way too early to call. I'd text my son, and send an email to his host home, asking them to confirm with me that all was well.

It was well, wasn't it??

I assured myself that it was, and continued, spurred into busy-myself-activities to pass the half-hour window of response time that I'd allowed The LA Sleepers.

Graciously, I even tacked on an additional 15 minutes before placing the first call.

From that moment on, every half hour, I logged a series of four phone calls:

Israel's cell
Israel's travel-specific cell
Host home land line
Host home cell

[Voiceover begins]

People.

This circuit continued for not one, not two, not three . . . but FOUR hours.

I never. reached. one. soul.

EGADS.

The faith-vs-irrational thought war was in full force.

Perhaps they confiscated my son AND his LA pick-up person, and took their phones from them. No. Wait. That's crazy. The LA police force or . . . maybe the FBI would have phoned looking for confirmation of Israel's story. Well, thank goodness he has his passport and several documents confirming his identity and his activity/reason for being in LA. Egads. This is crazy. Of course no one was detained! That's such a far-fetched idea I can't even believe I'm thinking it . . . Everything is fine, and they thought it was too late to call me after dealing with the shake down, and confirmation of the fact that Israel was who he said he was . . . .

and so on.

I waited. Externally patient, internally waning between equal patience, then emotional frenzy.

RING! Phone, RING! I willed it . . . with no results.

I finally resigned myself to my fate of never knowing . . .

[End voiceover]

The phone rang in my hand.

It was a groggy-voiced 14 year old boy on the other end of the line.

"Hi Mom. I just woke up."

(Really? I hadn't of guessed!)

"You are at your host home?"

"Yup."

"So, it worked out OK with security?"

"Oh. Mom. That was a joke."

******
[Scene 4]

[Camera pans into the room, finding the mother lying on the floor in a heap, passed out . . .]

Living At Our House Is Like . . .

kayaking in the mighty rushing waters of a river with the winter snows melted, creating new and endless rapids to maneuver.

Yup, folks. You guessed it.

He's headed back to LA. Today. (And we just found out yesterday . . .!)

Egads. :)

In honor of the occasion, I present a vidclip of how one might describe my feeble attempts at keeping up:

Reading, Writing, 'Rithmatic . . . and Reels

It's simply part of our day.

We've become accustomed to the ebb and flow of history in the morning . . .

Lights, Camera, Action! in the afternoon.

Homeschooling has its' perks! :D

Happy Mom

He's home!

The plane arrived a half an hour early, leaving my 14 year old lad standing in the appointed meeting-spot, just as he had been instructed - one small detail of a bevy of details that he was required to carry out over the past two weeks - aka: All Alone in LA.

Of course, that is not exactly the case ~ after all, Grandpa helped him manuever the first three days; and several folks assisted by being a 'host home' . . . however, that does not diminish in our eyes the mature actions of this boy-turning-to-man.

Our son successfully accomplished the following:

• The negotiation of three airports, the details and complexities thereof
• He was a veritable GPS system for Grandpa for three days
• Negotiated the LA Public Library computer system to download and print a VIP last minute script
• Attended numerous auditions, fully prepared
• Landed a 'screen test,' as one of two being considered for a major network project
• Handled the emotional disappointment of not being selected with grace and great character
• Handled VIP papers and documents with utmost care, including a debit card and passport, resume's and headshots
• Maintained his personal belongings, including a PSP, a laptop, and a cell phone
• Behaved in very generous manner with his finances, graciously sharing of what he had to those either in need, or out of friendship, around him
• With servant heart, assisted in the care and keeping of his host homes' tidiness
• Did his own laundry
• Researched an unexpected necessary purchase online before entering a store, so as to receive the best deal for the best price
• Completed 'pick ups' on a film in progress
• Requested instructions for final review before coming home
• Behaved as a gentleman every step of the way

What Momma wouldn't be proud? :D

Jet-Settin': A Family Affair

It's March 31. Do you know where your family members are??

Here at ChoiceCentral, it feels a bit like A Tale of Two (no, make that three) Jet Planes!

First of all, today is the day my son, the actor, returns home from his two week stint in LA, alone. He's hurtling down the highway as I type, about to enter the crazy huge LA airport and navigate it all. Let us pray.

Secondly, and the first coincidental note I took, my dear friend (you know, the kind that you call family. If you've not a friend or series of friends like that, you need one - or two!) is crossing the great expanse of the North American continent and heading to the West Coast from the East Coast.

What set my brain a'spinnin', however, was the email I received from my Mom this morning.

My Mom, center, with two of my first cousins.

It read, and I quote:

OFF TO LONDON GUYS :) PLEASE NO E-MAILS WHILE I AM GONE.

If that just doesn't beat all! You see, today, my Mom is flying with my nephew to London, for what may very well be the time of their lives!

My nephew Josh, with the infamous Grandpa Rog.

So, in one day, FOUR of my loved ones are IN THE AIR and criss-crossing the globe simultaneously.

Egads.

It's of epic proportions, I tell ya! A bonafide Jet-Settin' Family Affair!

More Love, From Hollywood

Upon checking my inbox this morning, I found yet another item for the scrapbook:

Hey Mom.

Tonight was awesome. We went to the place where we filmed on tape (where I had to sing for the audition. The studio was on the second floor in the apartment building, and the guy had lemons for my teeth). I went in the studio, while everyone else was in a little theater watching me on a projector screen. Steve was talking to me through a mic from the theater. It's a new thing Steve is doing. Every last two weeks of each month we record our stuff. Well today I didn't expect anything that was thrown at me, and I sucked. Very bad. I didn't even finish filming the whole scene. But afterwards we all watch what we had. It was really cool. We got home at 10:30! If there is any news message me.

I love you, and I'm kinda starting to miss you. But not much
.^_^.

I.

Well, Israel ~ I love you - and I'm kinda starting to miss you, too. But not much. And especially not in a smother-mother-sappy-gooey-kissy kinda way. Nope. Not me.

:D

Strike That

I was intentioned on a certain and specific blog post this morning. It entailed digging through photo files from February, and engaging in a little editing, but I was perfectly willing to do so.

That's when I happened across this photo, and everything changed:

"Draw From Here!" the card shouts. "Star Performer!"

It was as though the box in the photo came alive on the Israeliboy's behalf this morning, as we [still] await word on the next and final step of the discovery and decision process, completed by those in the entertainment industry.

"Humdinger!" the label reads. "Don't you know this Star Performer is a humdinger of a catch? Draw from here! Choose him! Go ahead! You won't be disappointed!" it seemed to be declaring to the movers and shakers, those decision makers.

As my son enters into week 2 of his '"alone" in LA' stint, I'm fairly certain the show must go on . . . and that he remains oblivious to the scrutiny he is under.

Ah well. Let him be a kid and enjoy himself. His Mom and Dad ~ and a host of others who love him ~ will keep watch for the latest memo to be arriving soon . . .

From Hollywood, With Love . . .

The reality is: he's fourteen. Blissfully ignorant of the greater stress of life; painstakingly present in the moment.

This is why I love him. Pure. Unabashed. Real. Boy.

For the scrapbook's sake, I'm calling yesterday's email a keeper. I'll splay it out here, for all Choosers to see. And Mom's of boys to relate to. (Names have been changed to protect the innocent!)

Hey Mom,

Things are going pretty well. I'm having fun. I don't miss you just yet. O.O But I am having a good time. Yesterday Susie and I went to StarBucks and this guy with no teeth was asking me a bunch of question, and getting in my face. He wasn't trying to be rude but since he had no teeth he was spitting on me. It was nasty. Then we chilled outside with some of Susie's friends.

Frank and Lois said I went to bed early last night and the dogg, Charlie and Lassie. Were cuddled up next to me. I miss Dell. Is he ok? ^_^

Well I'm about to go to my [****] test.

I'll talk to you later. Izzie.....You don't like "Izzy." .....I clearly said "Izzie."

P.S. Do you mind loading a bit more money on my card. I don't want to buy something i can't afford.

(Oh. And remind me to duct tape him when he gets home for saying "Izzy." "Izzie." No matter how ya slice it . . .Momma ain't happy with the moniker!)

Enjoy your day, as the process continues, and the wait tarries long!

Proof.

I've proof that I had not fully recovered from all the hoopla: 36 hours of intensive preparation for travel; the zany trip to Atlanta in torrential rain and back again; the administrative details being worked out between the LA Based Boy Pair via text messaging; and the whirlwind handling of details still ongoing as Israel continues his impromptu adventure ~

I just woke up.

It's 10:30, people.

Egads.