Happy Mothers' Day!!!

Stuck in an Elevator

You may recall the fun Lauren, Gigi, and I had being stuck in an elevator a few years ago.  While things had been a bit dicey for those 15 or so minutes, we were really very lucky. However, this past weekend A priest where my mother works lived one of my biggest fears- a scenario so scary I refused to lewt my mind wander to it that raining day in 2011. 

The 1st clue should have been when Fr. Mark didn’t return from 4:45 p.m. Mass at Iona College for supper yesterday evening.  But May 5 is the feast of the Christian Brothers’ founder Blessed Edmund Rice, and we figured the brothers were having a feastday dinner after the Mass and had invited Fr. Mark to join them (unusual, but possible).  And we didn’t worry about his absence any further.  The 2d clue came at 9:00 a.m. today the Ursulines called to say no one had shown up for Mass.  Fr. Mark was assigned, so I called his room and got no answer.  Since he’s accustomed to making us a fine breakfast on Sunday mornings, and there had been a fine breakfast prepared when I’d come downstairs at 7:45, I assumed he’d been up and then gone back to his room, sat down, and fell asleep.  Since his return on Wednesday evening from 10-day trip to Haiti he’d been pretty.  In retrospect, when he didn’t answer his phone, I should have asked the confreres to check on him instead of just rushing out celebrate the sisters’ Mass (for which I arrived 15 minutes late).  Directly after their Mass I went to my own assigned Mass at St. Vincent’s Hospital, arriving 10 minutes before the scheduled time.  I got home at 11:45, and still no one had seen Fr. Mark.  All the cars were home, so we knew he wasn’t out.  I went to his room, and he wasn’t there (and his bed was neatly made).  Most of us came for lunch at noon, and no one had any idea where he was, including Fr. Provincial.  So Fr. Ken Shaw went over to the mission office, fearing he might have gone to his office and something had happened to him.  Well, that was indeed the story—tho it wasn’t something as awful as we’d feared:  he was stuck in the elevator, and had been there since late yesterday afternoon.  Most of us had seen him in our kitchen preparing supper, and he was all prepared to celebrate Mass at Iona.  But he went to his office before leaving, got stuck in the elevator, and never got to Iona; and unlike the Ursulines the brothers didn’t call to tell us no one showed up.  He had no cell phone signal in the elevator, and if there was an emergency phone in it, it wasn’t working.  (Not good!)  So when Fr. Ken finally discovered poor Fr. Mark, he had to summon the NRFD to the rescue.  It took 5 of them 20 minutes to pry the doors open and “let the captive free.”  By then there was an audience of 4 SDBs on hand, able only to watch but at least reassured that Fr. Mark was fine—hungry and tired, but fine.

Who’d made that fine breakfast this morning?  Bro. Bernie.  For a few months we’ll have a long-term visitor in the community, Bro. Bernie Dubé.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH So scary, and while Father Mike (who wrote the email containing the above, seems to talk about it in jest, that poor man could have died and unthinkable thoughts have run through my mind about what must have gone down in those hours.

It's Race for Hope weekend

I am sitting it out this year due t financial restriction. I actually an pay for it but being 9/10 unemployed makes it irresponsible to use my money for the trip, not to mention it would also mean plunging my friend deeper into dept or going alone. Being adult about a situation sucks.

That said, I was thinking last night about writing a post about how I am really okay with not going this year.  I've gone three years in a row now and the last two I have left Washington with the thought, "I'll sit next year out."  Not spending money on the trip, job or no job, means a better argument for another indulgent trip at another point in the year; maybe attend a film festival in the summer, it has been a few years since I've been to Atlantic City, or how about Halloween in Disney.  I reasoned that I have seen a lot of the Capitol and could not readily come up with non race related things to do this weekend.

All of that is true and honestly leading up to it,  I've been great about it.  I've received countless emails about registration,  laughed about the fact that the year I don't go is the year David Cook finally does a team shirt, and replied no to the invitation to a team lunch.  Nothing fazed me but as I sat down just now looking at photos of my former teammates preparing or arriving I was hit with a stomach full of sad. 

I've never realized how much the race means to me, exactly.  I always feel inspired while I am there, and good about somehow helping pave the road toward a cure.  Sure there is a sense of unity  while standing on the mall surrounded by thousands of people in matching shirts all there for one reason but, aside from my small circle I am rather reserve and not really one for "community" or groups.  Once the speeches end I just walk away from everyone else and explore Washington.

I realize now though, that, while my feet are walking, my heart stays with the other people, my people.  Because, while I might not know most of their names I do know their pain, have shared their tears, exchanged their smiles, and listened to their triumphs.   These aren't faceless strangers, they are my family of hope and this year I am missing the reunion.

Congratulations to Jason Collins

Mr. Collins is the first active openly gay player of a major team sport, making him a hero and a trailblazer. Ironically, I saw the Jackie Robinson biopic "42" this past weekend and after watching the struggles of the first African American Major League Baseball player, I wondered to myself about when, if ever, I would see the first openly gay baseball player.   Here we are just days later and the possibility seems a lot greater now that there is an openly gay player in the NBA.  Robinson opened the door for other athletes and hopefully Collins does the same because regardless of what sport it is, this announcement took just as much courage, perhaps more.

Unlike Robinson, who was clearly not a white man, Collins could have continued to blend in to spare embarrassment, death threats, and being an outcast but he chose to be himself and that took bravery. So why is this announcement important? As a straight white girl I really don't have a first hand account of being ostrzied or the odd man out the way either of those men, do.  However, as a teenage girl who was equally obsessed with baseball and gay men, I read former baseball player Billy Bean's book  Going the Other Way... (http://www.billybean.com/) where he discussed what it was like being in the closet while being in the majors.  It was phenomenal and heart wrenching to read, and baseball fan or not, people should read it because it is an amazing biography.  Some things he discussed was how alone he felt, trying to live a double life to portray the lie, and how, when his partner died he was too afraid to tell anyone or miss a game.  He also spoke about the negative reactions from some of his former teammates and supposed friends. 

Unfortunately, that is the world we live in and Collins is probably receiving his share of angry mail.  However, what Bean also spoke about is the positive reactions and the letters where young gay men said they thought they'd never make it in the majors but now, because of him, they had hope.  Hopefully Collins is experiencing this as well because he has a heck of a task a head of him.  The first anything always does but hopefully, just like race no longer matters in baseball- only that the player delivers,  because of Jason Collins' bravery gay players will only be judged by their stats.

David Cook Lay Me Low

After about a year (though it feels much longer) and a move to Nashville, David Cook has finally released a new single, and his voice is in top shape!



Laying Me Low, is available from both ITunes and Amazon so go pick it up, it is well worth the dollar!

Cook will also appear on Thursday's American Idol to perform the song. 
Hopefully more to come...

Check out Chelsea Pub

http://chelseapubnyc.com/

From the owners of West Side Tavern, Stitch, and Houndstooth- Chelsea Pub is a quaint little lounge located in the heart of Chelsea, on 23rd between 8th and 9th Ave. The American fare cuisine even includes many Gluten Free options, alongside delicious drinks. Here are some pictures from last nights opening.

Lauren is 27!!

To celebrate, here are twenty seven