I told my friend Mark (see: Drinking Buddy of 2007) that I would blog about my adventures last Saturday but I put it off…and then Monday night I got smacked down with some evil stomach virus and it threw everything out of whack. But I did promise — and I keep my promises — and since I can’t summon the strength to get my butt to the sneak preview of Jumper tonight, I guess I’ll nurse my diet Root Beer and get this done.
Saturday I had a blast. Janet Lee and I attended PodCamp Nashville in the morning — there’s a reason for it that I can’t quite tell you just yet, but suffice it to say that the speakers were amusing and inspirational. We didn’t stay the whole time because Janet had to get home for a scheduled phone call with her husband, who was in Romania documenting gypsies and wild dogs.
They really do have the coolest stuff to do in East Nashville.
We each picked out a wooden heart, and Ethan and I sifted through the treasures for a while, trying to decide what to use. I had about 14 different ideas. I thought maybe I might make it for my father. When Sami and I were little, we would go down to the kitchen on Valentine’s Day morning and there would always be something from Dad. A little stuffed animal or a little box of chocolates. As far as I’m concerned, my father is, was, and will ever be the only redeeming feature about Valentine’s Day.
The symbolism is so apparent that even Meg, the owner of A&I, stood over my shoulder and told us all exactly what it meant. But more interesting is the symbolism in the evolution of the piece. At the beginning, I had all those utopian ideas of how my heart *should* look. I started with black paint around the outside and painted the right half. I got the red paint and painted the left half, not touching the black at all.
But it couldn’t end there.
So I made wings.
I titled it “Learn to Fly” — after the Foo Fighters song that played on the radio on the way home. I hung it up on the wall in my bedroom beside the blue mirror. And I went to Michaels and bought some more paint and some more shapes…and I’m going to find the time because I need to.
The “these” to which she was referring was a vase full of the most beautiful white tulips and a big, red heart balloon. I honestly had no idea who they could have come from. And then I read the card.
“Looks, talent, and Dad’s best fishing buddy. You got it all, kid.”
Good ol’ Georgie-Porgie’s still got it.
I left the balloon at work, but the flowers came home with me.
I even took a picture of them for Mom — to prove to her that I really did finish those bookshelves.
Okay, so maybe I have been the object of a true love’s affection.
And they’re right: Home is where the Heart is.