Sunday, November 14, 2010

sandy harbst, mother and person extraordinaire

it seems like every living soul has too many horror stories to share concerning their mothers, so go ahead and start resenting me now, because i don't have a single one.

my mother is perfect, and being perfect is perhaps her only imperfection. bias, you say. hardly. this mother of mine is nothing short of a modern day miracle. and not only that, but today is her birthday, so keep a lid on whatever psychological evaluation you would like to make about me.

it's a bit to live up to as a mother myself. a bit, i'm almost positive i've already ruined my chances of; the sort of patience my mother possesses is super-natural. i grew up with this sort of constant grace and calmness aimed at me in light of all my mishaps and bouts of ridiculousness. i knew there wasn't anything i could do that would stop her from loving me, or thinking the world of me. she verbalized and lived love and not only towards us her children and my father but towards everyone. my mother will not, nor has she ever uttered a word of malice or contentiousness towards another person. she sees the best in everyone and will only allow herself to be understanding, nothing less. it's amazing. she is amazing. i know only a handful of people who come somewhat close to the degree of selflessness and loveliness as her, and naturally, their either people my mother has influenced like my sisters and father, or, people i've seen this in and have either married or made sure to be best friends with. once you've known someone as beautiful inside and out like my mother, you become a junkie to be close in proximity, via physically or emotionally, to people like that. you want and hope it rubs off on you. you are forever loyal to them.

so today, mother, i salute you. i honor you. i love you.


Friday, November 12, 2010

Built to Spill, Historic Ashland Armory, 11/11/10

any other band and i would have stayed home, nursed my cold with hot tea, nyquil, and an early bed time. but those who know Built To Spill know, they're far from any ol' band. plus, it was my birthday present, the one i bought for my husband to give to me and it was the highlight of my turning of 31. whatever hardships i knew i was to encounter because of the late night and early rising child and cold that i was most likely going to aggravate because of the neglect i was going to have to give my body in order to go was going to be worth it. and it was.

ashland is weird though. i was hoping to find my new best friend there. me, her, side by side at the show drinking a beer, rocking out with our fists pumping then somehow a natural conversation would ensue as lead man, doug, tuned his guitar in between songs. we'd start chatting, buy each other a beer, realize how much we had in common ,exchange numbers, or maybe just look one another up on facebook- both amazed we both we're living in the same valley all this time and had never met, because, well, we're obviously made for one another. next thing you know we're going out for lemongrass margaritas on a tuesday night and having the time of our lives.

maybe i was standing in the wrong spot, because i spent the entire show by myself. no conversations in between songs. no "what are you drinking?". no euphony of similarities, or facebook searches later that night, or lemongrass margarita plans. however, oh however, their were plenty of pot smelling hippies swaying enthusiastically out of rhythm and numerous girls in a dance/aerobic circles who clearly weren't about the music but about showcasing their retardness and whoredom; there were middle aged men with 1998 goatees swarming underage hotties, and that's about it. or at least from where i was standing. which, since i was by myself and not going to drink enough to allot to my confidence quota for 'in the front fist pumping and bra slinging', i was in the back, in the middle where i know acoustics are there best, and they were.

i will admit, at first, i wasn't all too impressed. my first time to see Built to Spill was from the vantage of backstage; the air was charged, the sound perfect, and the view impeccable. it still stands as the best show i've ever seen (right under it is seeing Trail of the Dead at Clearview. holy !!!!. that show was off the hook awesome.) this time around however they seemed to get off to a sluggish start, totally void of that electric pulse in your heart you get at a truly awesome show. but a little half way through the set, it was on. and by the encore, i was ready to run my bra to the front.

this morning i'm hurting, but damn it feels good to be a cowboy. or, you know.

Tuesday, November 02, 2010

five minutes away is a little town no bigger than a hippie chic's armpit bush, that has every charm every parent dreams about raising their kids around. Main St. is only a few blocks long with a valley beyond it known for it's mom and pop wineries and idyllic afternoon drives. the town itself consists of a handful of special shops, a restaurant or four, a top notch outdoor music venue that looks across at the stark in comparison bare eastern hills that always it seems are illuminated with a blazing sunset, a post office the size of a public restroom, a richard scary style fire station, a park, a church, a school, and a library. the trees along the streets swoop down and around the cottage style homes, sometimes shabby chic and sometimes shabby socal. bambi and her family are familiar figures laying in front yards, or crossing the street, or dashing through the park. everyone it seems knows everyone. the crime rate is so low it measures invisible. and it was named one of the top ten coolest small towns to live in by yahoo, and yes it is, none other than, jacksonville.

since moving to southern oregon, and then a few short weeks later finding out i was pregnant, jon and i both knew jacksonville would be the ideal town to raise our family in. but that was at the height of the market, just before the bubble burst and home prices adjusted meagerly to the demographic median salary. at the time, a starter home in jacksonville would set one back close to half a million, and obviously, that was a LOL sort of notion for us.

we're still not much closer today than we were five years ago to the "dream" of home buying, which is more than fine with me, i'm not altogether convinced owning is better than renting anyways, but with conrad just half a year away from starting kindergarten, i am over our stint in medford and ready to materialize the intention of us in jacksonville.

otherwise, i want the beach.