Funnel Cakes, Lemon Sticks, Ferris Wheels & Dressage...

OK... so it is starting to become "That Time of Year" again... a time which as a child, teenager and young adult... I looked forward to. The smell of early summer thunderstorms right before the heavens opened up... or right after when the humidity smelled like asphalt and freshly cut grass. In the evenings we were lucky enough to start seeing the first glimpses of Lightning Bugs blinking in the distance and we looked forward to the last few days of school as we stared out our bedroom windows hoping for Summer to arrive.


For me... I grew up in an area steeped in tradition and history. Many people who grew up in the Northeast can say the same, but few have the experience that I had. My mom became involved in the community almost as soon as we moved to the Main Line (Wayne, PA) back in the winter of 1978. One of the organizations she became deeply involved in - was the Devon Horse Show & Country Fair. For over 30 years she volunteered, headed fundraising galas and dinners, ran various committees on the grounds and was an esteemed and loved Chairman there. 


Growing up around this environment gave me (I think) the heart that I grew into (I didn't always have this carefree loving spirit you all know me to have today, and at times I was quite the handful). I started volunteering at the Devon Horse Show on the Candy Committee - as a "Striper" (Not stripper... for my male friends you better zip your lip before I pop you one). I would have a rectangular wicker basket hung from a wide ribbon around my neck and I would walk up and down the grandstands much like a hot dog vendor at a baseball game. I would sell gum, candy and a Devon Favorite - Fresh Lemon Sticks. It was the summer of 1980 and I was only 5 years old... and at that time the age wasn't a factor, nowadays I think you have to be at least 12 to volunteer. It was my first "job" and I felt important. I was the Carrie Ingles or Laura Ingles-Wilder Little house on the Prairie look a like child with long flowing golden locks but dressed in the preppy pink and green outfits that became synonymous with the Main Line crowd. 


After a few years of volunteering, it was no longer just a way to make my parents proud... but it became a part of my life. Something I looked forward to every year. Plus, my mom was always near by somewhere on the Show Grounds so I always was able to see her if I wanted.


At around age 9 I was "Promoted" to the Midway area - where my mom was now Chairman. I worked the Duck Pond along side a few older girls who were maybe 12. It was my first taste of Midway and I would later learn that it was the place where all the "Cool" kids would hang out, eat funnel cake, go to the top of the Ferris wheel with boys and sneak off away from their parents. I worked Midway until I was 19 in various areas including the highly sought after Air conditioned ticket booth.


During these formative years at Devon, there were many people I grew up with, many of whom I considered family - as they had seen me grow up in-front of their eyes. Devon gets under your skin, it becomes a part of you. And no matter how many times you say, "This will be my last year" it never is. 


My last year of volunteering at Devon was May/June of 1999. I had already at that time been dating my then boyfriend long distance for 3-4 months and was trying to find myself in life and in love. 3 Months later I moved 3000 miles away from everything I ever knew and moved to California to start my life with my boyfriend, Adam. 


I wouldn't go back to Devon for years and when I did, I noticed not much had changed... the dusty arena still smelled the same, you could smell the hamburgers and hot dogs cooking, you could hear the announcements and crowds in the grandstands... and if the wind hit just right - you could smell an interesting mix of the wonderful funnel cakes and the horse stables just beyond that! lol. You witnessed the "Grand Dams" walking around with their $2500 hats on that were the size of today's Smart Cars and the men walking around in their Madras Plaid golf pants, leather braided belts and polo shirts while wearing their aviator sunglasses. Yep... not much has changed.


It's called tradition. It's called Devon Week. That last week of May, first week of June. And as that time approaches and I realize how much I miss it and those traditions... it hits me...


My mom who devoted her life to the running of the show behind the scenes... who helped raised hundreds of thousands of dollars every year to benefit the Bryn Mawr Hospital - a hospital where she would later go for her Breast Cancer surgeries and treatments... will never be seen there again. Her last years there were spent in the Blue Room... a prestigious area that not too many Devon go-ers know about. The high rollers, famous, Chairmen and Board Members go there for hors d'oeuvres and stashed bottles of liquor. It was a high honor to be a Chairman of the Blue Room and that was how my mom "went out". 


The smell of cotton candy, funnel cakes, lemon sticks and horses... yes they are all very very sweet and remind me of Devon.


A smell even sweeter? Success. And in my eyes my mom did that for Devon.


God how I miss both.

Mr. Grey

Let me introduce you to a person who can't be decisive on anything. He can't decide on Black or White... only the confusing shade of Grey in the middle. But... when a decision is made... it is made HIS way. Period.

You try desperately to give your opinion... you even back it with proof, knowledge and compassion. Nope... He  over-talks you as you speak and talks down to you as if you were a 6 year old with a 3 year old mentality.

He steps away from your family at the age of 19 to rarely be around after that, even though you try your best to include him. You love him with all his faults and miss him terribly... or at least you miss the person he USED to be. When he does step back in... he does it with such a lack of compassion, or understanding or care for others feelings or desires, that it leaves you wondering if Mr Grey should have even been brought or invited back.

Harsh, overbearing, manipulative, condescending.
Forgetful, mean, pushy, better-than-thou.
Self-Entitled, arrogant, non-communicative and non listening.

I struggle to deal with the fact that Mr Grey is the Brother to Little Miss Sunshine (Me).
I sit here with the, "I just don't get it" mentality wondering how the hell he can be such a horses ass.

Maybe he chose to step away from family reality a long time ago and just doesn't have the sack to admit he was wrong and needs family in his life. That he needs to calm things down a bit and that he isn't always right.
(For God's sake he was calling my mom's cancer, Stomach Cancer and when I corrected him he tells me, "I am not going to sit here and argue about it Ali... we can discuss details later". I was appalled)

Anywho... I am sure we all have a Mr Grey in our lives... a boss, a friend, a cousin... I am curious... am I the only one dealing with such idiot-ness?

7-Eleven ~vs~ Home Grind...a friendship comparison

So as I sit here wide awake due to the fact that my child in the womb refuses to sleep, I have decided to start my own blog. Not that you all haven't had your fair share of my raw honesty or humor on Facebook.

So I know we all have our vices... some it's alcohol, some like bubble baths, some love running, some love coffee and some love porn or sex...
well.. me? Aside from running? All of the above please... ;)

Actually For me... it's coffee... over the years I thought I really knew that I liked coffee, needed coffee and thought I had grown up tastes... until Adam and I went to Kona Hawaii for our 5 year wedding anniversary. No longer do I take cream in my coffee (or seldom do now) because I want to be able to taste the coffee, not the cream. Besides... who needs to add extra around the hips?

So I get to thinking... I used to be able to stop in at a 7-Eleven, WaWa or even am/pm and grab a cup of their coffee and be okay with it... cause it was quick, easy and cheap... there are times I grind mine fresh at home and nothing to me tastes better (cause frankly no one can make it better)... then I really get to thinking...

Have you ever slept over at a friends house... or gone over for a "simple" chat about life... or been hungover and your friend offers you a cup of coffee? You shake your head cause you love coffee and think, "Sure.. I could go for a cup!"

Now... at that point in time it doesn't matter if it is Folgers, Starbucks, Peet's or Chicory root... cause you get the first sniff of it brewing... your senses overloaded with that wonderful smell which makes you all warm and fuzzy inside... and you smile.

You sit down with your friend at the table, lift your cup under your nose... feeling the hot moist flavorful steam and.... SLUUUUURP.... ah! That first sip. You instantly feel warm and happy and all is good in the world. You open your eyes, looking at your friend over the rim of the cup and... SLUUUURP... ah! 2nd sip is just as wonderful!!! Suddenly you realize something... the love that was put into a $0.15 cent cup of joe at your friends house tastes FAR better than a $6 "quality" cup at Starbucks or the ease and convenience of a $2 cup at 7-Eleven.

Why is that? To some people.. coffee is coffee no matter where they get it... cause their "Tastes" are simple.
(I would like to thank Hawaii for changing my mind on the reality of THAT one).

Back to my point...
It tastes better when a friend makes it cause there is love there. There is friendship there. You could be having the worst day ever and your friend picks your spirits up by offering his or her love in liquid gold form. And it is heaven. It is what you need to fill the void, answer questions, heal the pain or give you a much needed laugh.
It always tastes better... period.

So over the past few weeks, I have had 2 similar conversations with others about friendships. I know that friends come and go, but hopefully... if you are lucky... you can hold up one hand proudly and count those who are near and dear and who are true blue forever friends. The ones who dry you off after the rain and warm your soul with a cup of coffee.

Friends shouldn't be that of convenience... the $2 cups that you trash the cup when done. Real friendships shouldn't be that of grandeur either... the fancy China that you serve your coffee in only on "Special Occasions". True Blue Friendships should be served in an old weathered mug, full of character, worn handles and maybe a chip or two... with stains from repeated "visits" of love in a cup.

Have you ever needed someone in times of trouble or sadness and you are in a jam? Like you need someone to pick you up late at the airport and you get every offer prior to that by "friends" saying, "Yes... if you EVER need me for anything... call me... I'll be there"... so you call... and they flake or are too busy or don't even answer? Yet you would do it for them without so much as a second thought? What the fuck is up with THAT? Yet others completely surprise you and say, "Hey.. I'll come get you" (someone whom you haven't seen in years and years and years and you aren't very close with yet they have the heart to help?) That is the cup of coffee you needed. The "Perk" from that friend picks you up and makes you feel warm and fuzzy. And you are grateful cause they would never expect it from you in return - although you know you would do it for them anyway.

Friendships of convenience are fake and harsh and underlined with pretentious bullshit hassles which make you second guess yourself and who you are as a person. "I do this for them, yet they never do it back when asked".

What ever happened to "Do unto others as you'd have done unto yourself"??

Is life THAT hectic? Have we grown THAT accustomed to conveniences like 7-Eleven that we have "Drive thru" friendships now?
What the hell is THAT???

Now granted, I realize I have "friends" far and wide... and I pray that I am not one of those 7-Eleven types of coffee for you...

I hope that even if we don't see each other often, that you know you are thought of fondly and that hopefully if I make you smile once a week with some stupid or silly post on Facebook that I am there with you... sharing a cup of home ground brew in a cup that has a picture of Garfield on it that says "Mornings Suck" and the handle has been glued back on... twice.