Things I Can’t Make Up

There have been a lot of circumstances in my life in which I have had people say to me, “You just can’t make that up”, and today is certainly another one of those times.

One of these things happened a while ago. I went through a divorce. Lots of people do it and it had me thrown for a loop and there have been highs and lows involved going through the process. I was married to a man named, Bill. After the divorce, when I thought that no one would want to get involved with someone that came with three teenage kids, a friendship that I had, took a turn and there was, indeed, some interest from a man.  He didn't have any kids, but two dogs and two cats. Not only was he interested, but after some time, I realized I was too. His name is Bill. Not only is his name, Bill, but his name is William Thomas Johnson. My ex-husband’s name is William Thomas Ladwig. No, I can’t make this up.

As Johnson and I got closer and I started to introduce him to people, there was that awkward moment when I would have to say, “Yes, you heard me right, his name is Bill and not only is his name Bill, but they have the same middle name as well”.  The next awkward moment after that is when the befuddled people I just shared my news with were trying to figure out how to differentiate which Bill they were talking to me about. Names like: “Old Bill,” and “New Bill”, along with “Ex-Bill”, and “Better Bill”, or “Your kid’s Dad”, and “Your new husband,” were used. Then came my Dad’s famous line…”She did this so she didn't have to change the monogrammed towels”!

Initially, there was awkwardness when we were all together at events. It is to be expected in such circumstances, no matter what the name. Over time, there were less awkward moments and more moments of us just trying to do the right thing with parenting the kids. We made some major decisions, the three of us, and have proven to be on the same page with what we wanted for the kids.

More time passed and I realized that I had not only obtained an ex-husband, but also rekindled a friendship with him.

The two Bill’s share a lot of the same likes and dislikes and one of their big likes is music-both played in bands in high school, both play guitar and both love the same kind of music.

I bought Ladwig, one of his guitars during the time we were married. I would get frustrated that he never seemed to learn a song all the way through-just bits and pieces. I bought Johnson a new guitar as well and struggled through listening to him play just bits and pieces of songs.

Fast forward to today: there is a Basement Band. It started with Johnson, and his co-workers, Nate, and Craig. They started out practicing at Craig’s house, however, Craig has kids at home that need to do things like studying and such, so I decided to extend the invitation to have practice over here in our basement. I gave myself the title of, “Band Manager”, and encourage them to do the best that they can. Bill and I have set-up the basement with band lighting, amps, a fridge for the beer, coat hooks and the convenience of using the side door of the house to haul equipment in and out. I have embraced the band and even have found myself enjoying listening as they have improved.

I don’t remember when it occurred to me that Ladwig might like to join the band and jam with the guys. I do remember thinking that I would just throw it out there and see what would happen. I mentioned it and there was a hint of interest. I emailed the set list to Ladwig. He already knew quite a few songs on the list but informed me that until he got his new guitar and amp, that he wouldn't be able to practice.

On Sunday of this week, I talked to my daughter, Lauren, and she said she was in Madison with her Dad getting his amp.

This morning, Johnson mentions that an impromptu band practice was going to happen tonight in the basement. I mentioned that I knew that Ladwig had his amp and that he should shoot him an invite. I guess the whole time, I wasn't too sure how this was going to go. Would it be a good idea to have both Bill’s in a band together? We are all adults, right?!

Fast forward to 5 pm today-I get out of my vehicle after work to hear the sounds of band practice. I make my way down the basement steps to see four band members practicing away, both Bill’s jamming out and both grinning from ear to ear. I listen to them finish the song. It is as if Ladwig has been with them the whole time as they worked their way through the songs. In this moment, I know that while I can’t make “this” up, “this” has turned out to be an amazing thing.

We discuss the first gig…discuss dates…discuss the set up… and I walk back up the stairs. I feel shock but also feel happy. At the end of the day, this is what life is about. It is about going through the ebbs and flows with an attitude of making it work, no matter what "it" is.

While I don’t know where the Basement Band is heading, I do know that it has made a positive impact for all of us involved. Play On.

Johnson attempts a band "Selfie"

Ladwig and Craig

Nate brings it home with the hair and the jacket!

   

The Basement Band...yet to be named. 

Guitar/Amp ClipArt from: Laura Roberts 

Band ClipArt from: kurtgallagher.com 

A New Scarf

David Geschke April 6, 2013 at 5:52 AM

Great post. You're a very good writer. If you have a passion to write, get out of your own way - write! Passion is God's way of telling us His will. Doubt is the ego's way of keeping us focused on what we DON'T want for ourselves. From there we all have the choice which path to follow. Many people get so caught up in ego based activity they lose track of their passions, never follow their dreams. Be quiet, get in touch with your soul's yearning... from there it's just a matter of believing in yourself.

The above comment was made April 6, 2013 on another blog I had posted. I have been thinking about it ever since.

First of all, I have never had someone I admire so much as a writer themselves, say to me, that I am a very good writer. I have let those words bounce around in my head ever since I read them and I imagine them to be like a whole bucket of ping pong balls dropped from a tall building only to land bouncing and scattering all over on the pavement below. I don’t ever think I will be able to collect those words back up into my bucket and be able to have them all line up in order in my brain in a way with which I would believe them.

Does that mean that I think Dave is a liar? Would he really just throw those words at me and not mean them? Anyone who knows Dave, knows he doesn't say what he doesn't mean.

He speaks of passion in his comment and I know deep down in my heart that I am truly passionate about finding a way to combine my love of photography, my love of writing and my drive to help people into something that would actually make a decent living for me.

Doubt.

Just uttering that word is like putting on that familiar winter scarf that you wrap around your neck to keep the chill out. It is something you don’t think about until it is cold and even then, you don’t think about it when you reach for it to wrap around you. Doubt is like that familiar scarf. I reach for that because it is a familiar feeling to me and is an excuse to not attack what I am most afraid of.

Let me tell you a little more about the scarf. I have had it ever since I can remember and it was given to me by someone very special. Scarf equals doubt in the above two sentences. Doubt-I have had it ever since I can remember and doubt was given to me by someone very special. You want to believe those around you who say that they are there to love you and support you and they mean well when they give you their advice, however, when it comes down to passion and dreams, the only one you should truly be listening to is yourself.

Over the years, the scarf has taken a beating. I have been rough on it. It is weathered and has a few spots that are worn through and truth be told, it isn't doing its job anymore and I am starting to notice it. It is hard to let it go. There are new scarves available, but I am so used to that scarf. It seems a shame to throw it away. 

Over the years, doubt has taken a beating. I have used it to fight many battles. I have been rough on it because it was there and became larger than life. As the years go by, doubt is no longer doing its job. My spirit is becoming stronger than what my doubt can handle and my dreams aren't kept wrapped up in it any more. They keep slipping through the worn holes in my doubt and they are more and more something that I can almost catch a hold of.

Dave was right. He called my bluff. He held open my box full of new scarves and challenged me to reach in and grab them. My fear keeps getting in the way. I am standing in my own way and the more that I think about it, the less I want to be a barrier to myself.

Believe in yourself.

I repeat this constantly hoping that if I keep stitching it into my spirit a new and beautiful scarf will appear. It will be in the pattern of my dreams and my spirit and I will no longer reach for the old one, but will wear this new one with pride because it is fits perfectly. 

More Observations While Walking At Lunch

Observations from my walk today: 


1. I never noticed before that my love for tree tunnels while driving, extends to tree tunnels over sidewalks!

2. Love the flag swag as well.

3. Where are all the kids?! It is summer, people and as a kid, I was outside way more than I was in and on my walk I only saw 3 kids!!!

4. I must find where to get deep pink cone flowers-just gorgeous (would have had to walk on their yard to get a picture)

5. Mother Nature needs to get her hormones in line. Note the tree that not only had changed colors for fall but was dropping leaves. 

6. I still scream when bugs land on my shoulder even when in public!

It is just me and my shadow and that's the way I like it on these kind of walks. 

Originally written on August 6, 2014

Observations While Walking

Observations while walking at lunch:

1. I always thought fall was my favorite season, but clearly, summer is a close second because of all the beautiful blooming flowers.

2. I am obsessed with said, "beautiful blooming flowers", because it would seem that most people don't know to "dead head" so that more flowers come back. If you ever notice me in a yard that isn't mine, dead heading some flowers, send for help, or come help me get done quick so we can leave the property.

3. Not many people have vegetable gardens anymore, but those that do have gardens that are ginormous! (For the record, I commend your efforts, but know that if I can see a ripe tomato from the road, I might also end up in your garden picking it!)

4. I really enjoy to see the American Flag blowing in the wind and wish more homes would put the flag out daily. 

5. I need a different playlist when walking...(clearly it was too boring if I am doing too much thinking and not enough singing!)

6. Finally, I don't like to sweat. I know it is good for me. I. Don't. Like. To. Sweat. The picture here is black and white so you can't see the sweat pouring off of me...

Originally written on August 5, 2014

First Holiday Letter 2013

My first holiday letter to Mark Zuckerberg:

Dear Mark, 

I hope that while I am ending up in your "Other" folder because we aren't personally connected, I would like to wish you a Happy Holidays. You see, while you aren't connected to me, you really know more about me than most and so when I was feeling down about not having the beautiful family picture card to send out this season, I realized, I don't need it because of you!

Because you had an idea, followed an idea, put up with the drama of an idea (I never believed the twins...btw) and kept moving it forward, you have created the Holiday card of a lifetime! My year in review. 

You have given me the ability to be creative, to laugh, to cry and to move forward with other's encouragement throughout many years now. And while yes, I have maybe adjusted things a bit to look better on Facebook (say goodbye to all the selfies that ended up in the garbage can), I can honestly say, I have had the chance to grow and learn and keep in contact with those that I couldn't keep in contact with before. You have given me the ability to still remain "private" and given me a whole new acronym dictionary: "PM" me. "FB" me, etc. 

See, you have been on a journey with me, Mark....through birthdays, a divorce, parties, deaths and the remarkableness that is my three children. You saw me through finding love again and were at my wedding and you allowed all of my friends and family to be with me through this too. How lucky is that?!

I now "check" myself before I rattle off something on FB...do I really want that out there, as well as I "check" myself with spelling and furthermore, allowing my "likes" to keep me in "check" when I need their support.  

Thanks for providing me with a way to connect with those I love when I can't seem to connect face to face. Thanks for allowing me to post the positive and being forgiving (moving it down the timeline or the ability to delete) when I lose track of things.

Thanks the most for letting me travel all over the country with my husband when he is on the road...I have selfies from many many cities and see pictures of what he is experiencing. Thanks for letting me be with my kids when I can't and say goodnight to them which means the most. 

Most of all, thanks for letting me believe that dreams can become a reality and no dream is ever too big. 

Hopefully you get this before the end of 2013...don't know how often you check the "other" folder, but if you want to catch up...I have got plenty of pictures and stories. 

Sincerely, 
Michelle Johnson (there are thousands....)
Beaver Dam, WI   

Picture this...: The Blog Blues

Picture this...: The Blog Blues: I have the “Blog Blues”. I could tell myself all the reasons why it is everyone else’s fault, but clearly it is me. I have the issues. I h...

The Blog Blues

I have the “Blog Blues”. I could tell myself all the reasons why it is everyone else’s fault, but clearly it is me. I have the issues. I have the hang ups. I have the blues.

This morning, when I finally convinced myself that the floor wasn't going to eat me alive if I put my toes on it (has anyone else had that feeling as a kid?) and drew myself slowly out of my cocoon of blankets, I decided that I was going to get ready in silence today.

Normally, I would have the local radio station on and I would listen to my husband on his morning show and pick up my phone to text him constantly, trying to add my two cents worth only to have him not read the texts until way later. 

If the kids are home, Lauren will have her “getting ready for school” music on and I, in an act of utter horror to her and utter joy to me, will ask her to turn it up and proceed to sing along. What doesn’t a good rap song get you in the mood for anyway? The worst thing I could possibly do is to add some “hip” dance moves and I really throw some good moves in in my big girl panties and bra on as I strut by her room. GASP.

Yes, proof that I do have a fun and carefree side dipped in a little bit of evil as far as my kids go.

I digress.

Today, it is just me and silence and I make this choice because I woke up thinking about something that I have been thinking about a lot lately-writing.

When I was in grade school and high school, I fancied myself a writer. Even more, to boost my writing ego, I had poems published and short stories and wrote the lyrics to our class song for graduation, in which yes, I sang in front of everyone (and I have never fancied myself as a singer), but didn't care because my best friend wrote the notes itself and I wrote the words and it would forever go down in history as the song no one will remember as the class song because it never was a song that you could hear on the radio and could turn and say to your kids, “Hey, kids, this was our class song”.  In hindsight, this was brilliant on my part because I can make it anything I want it to be. I can tell tales of how everyone was in tears and then had their lighters out and asked for autographs and I was asked to write more songs for more graduations. I could say that the boys needed my phone number because they wanted to keep in touch with me when I became famous. All of this was not the truth, of course.

Lately, I have had this song in my head: 

NE-YO, “Let Me Love You (Until You Learn to Love Yourself)".

The song applies a lot to me and not at all to me all at once. Here is the first verse:

               “Much as you blame yourself, you can’t be blamed for the way you feel,

               Had no example of a love, that was even remotely real,

               How can you understand something that you never had” 

(Up until here is all what I could say if I were to write the song), and then it goes into:

“Ooh baby if you let me, I can help you out with all of that. Girl, let me love you and I will love you until you learn to love yourself. Girl let me love you and all your trouble, don’t be afraid, girl let me help, Girl let me love you and I will love you until you learn to love yourself.”

 (That is the money line for me…the one that tugs at my heart strings and makes me realize that if my husband could write this he would have).  Then it goes on to say:

               “Girl let me love you. A heart of numbness, gets brought to life, I’ll take you there.”

This is followed by a series of “Girl’s” and “Baby” and “Yo” and“Love you”, “Love me”, ya-da ya-da.

Next verse:        

“I can see the pain behind your eyes, it’s been there for quite a while. I just wanna be the one to remind what it is to smile. I would like to show you what true love can really do. Girl…” (insert all the above series of lines), and then “A heart of numbness gets brought to life, I’ll take you there.”

That basically is the song. The song moved me. It did. I kept thinking, now that’s love, hanging in there carrying you when you can’t carry yourself. However, upon further review, I have no like for the song at all. Ne-Yo, or anyone who dares say those words, needs to know that no amount of love or carrying or anything like that will get someone to love themselves. It is a nice gesture, but unnecessary and really not true.

So, say one day, that person all of a sudden starts to love themselves and thinks, “I don’t need you, Ne-Yo, to tell me what to do. I am perfectly capable of this love thing all by myself”.  Then what happens?

…back to me getting ready this morning…

I am taking a good hard look at myself in the mirror. “What’s it going to take to make me happy? What do I have to do to take the power back into my own hands and allow myself to be happy? What tools am I missing?”

I know what I used to love to do that brought me so much joy and that was what lead me to my, “Blog Blues”.

I loved to blog. Nothing was off limits. Nothing was too trivial and I didn’t care if anyone read it or not, it just felt good to do it. Then, the unspeakable happened. I, unknowingly, had breached blog etiquette, if there is such a thing and did a heinous, unspeakable crime. I blogged about something that made someone else angry because they thought it was about them. (The song, “You’re so Vain,” is now playing in the background of my head). Next line:

“You probably think this blog is about you”.

The blog was mine. The thoughts were mine. The feelings were mine and now, someone else’s emotions and feelings were running the show and ruining the joy I felt by letting the words flow.  That was it. End of scene.

Did I mention I am stubborn? Pig headed? Don’t like to be told what to do? Did I also mention that even though I am all those things, I will listen to everyone else before I will listen to myself? True story.

So, days went into weeks. Weeks went into months and blogging was always on my mind. It is like the boyfriend that is your world and then he breaks up with you and you are constantly running into him and he is looking so good and you end up just hating him. That was how I felt about blogs. I kept running into links for blogs that I used to read, wanted to read, should read, but would resist reading because I was angry and didn't like it that someone else could blog and I couldn't.

Who put these rules on me? When did I become the bitter blogger? When did I get the “Blog Blues”?

While putting the finishing touches on my makeup and taking one last look at myself, I decided that today was the day. No matter what, I would write. As soon as that thought entered my head there was a bit of lightheaded, swirling, a bit of clamminess and self-doubt.

That was when I realized that the “Blog Blues” had me down, way down deep and I had to enlist the help of my fellow musical geniuses for some insight.

 I sent a quick text out: “What’s your favorite Blues Song, GO!” Notice, I didn't ask why. I wanted to experience for myself the answers I got back and feel for myself what those songs said to me.

Blues Song-Entry #1

Blind Willie McTell

Statesboro Blues

Wake up momma, you got to turn your lamps down low, Wake up momma, turn your lamps down low, you got no nerve baby to turn Uncle John from your door.  Woke up this morning, I had them Statesboro Blues. Woke up this morning, had them Statesboro Blues. When I looked over in the corner, baby, Even your Grandpa seemed to have them too.

My momma died and left me, my poppa died and left me, I ain’t good looking baby but I’m someone sweet and kind. And I’m going to the country, baby do you wanna go? Your sister Lucille said she wanna go and I sure will take her.

Love that woman, better than any woman I’ve ever seen, I love that woman, better than any woman I’ve ever seen, I treat her like a doggone queen. Wake up momma, you got to turn your lamps down low, Wake up momma, turn your lamps down low, you got no nerve baby to turn Uncle John from your door.” 

At first glance at the lyrics, there was a bit of an eye roll from me and I just thought, what in the world is this even talking about? Then, I took the time to listen to each rendition of the song and found it to be very intriguing. The gist of it to me is that Mama isn’t letting Papa into the house and all the kids and family are now suffering because of it and Papa is threatening that he won’t ask again to come back, basically throwing down a threat.

Statesboro Blues

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

In 2005, The Atlanta Journal-Constitution ranked "Statesboro Blues" number 57 on its list of 100 Songs of the South.

Blues Song-Entry #2

                                                                                               Albert King

Road House Blues

“The moon is risin’, an’ it done got lonesome here. I said, the moon is  risin’, baby, an’ it done got lonesome, here, but baby, I wish you were near.

IF I ever get lucky yeah, an’ win my train fare home, Well, if I ever get lucky buddy, an’ win my train fare home, Oh, the moment that I do, darlin’ You can say your man is comin’ home, yeah.

It’s so hard, trying’ to make it all by yourself, yeah, I say it’s so hard, yeah yea, tryin’ to make it all by yourself, yeah. Oh an’ the woman that you’re really lovin’, she done gone off with someone else, um!

There’s no use ta cryin’, oh, ‘cause your crying’ won’t help you none, woo! Hey, I said it’s no use ta cryin’, buddy, because your cryin’ won’t help you none. You’ll fall in love again an’ she’ll keep you always on the run, yeah.

I say, if I ever get lucky (yeah, that’s my son!) an’ win my train fare home, oooo Lordy, Have you ever felt like that? Oh, if I ever get lucky, buddy yeah, an’ win my train fare home, yeah yeah! Oh, the day that I do, angel. you can bet your life, old Albert is gone, yeah.

Oh wen ya see me comin’, baby yeah, I want ya to raise your window high, woo! Hey, when ya see me comin’ home, babe, I want ya to raise your window high, yeah yeah. But when I turn an’ leave little girl, I want you to hang your head an’ cry, Woo, Lord have mercy! Lord have mercy!

Five Long Years

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Five Long Years is a moderate-tempo song that tells of "the history of the metal worker who, for five years, worked hard in a factory and who gave his check every Friday night to his girlfriend, who nevertheless dumped him"

Blues Song-entry #3

"Texas Flood"

Stevie Ray Vaughan

Well there's floodin' down in Texas
All of the telephone lines are down
Well there's floodin' down in Texas
All of the telephone lines are down
And I've been tryin' to call my baby
Lord and I can't get a single sound

Well dark clouds are rollin' in
Man I'm standin' out in the rain
Well dark clouds are rollin' in
Man I'm standin' out in the rain
Yeah flood water keep a rollin'
Man it's about to drive poor me insane

Well I'm leavin' you baby
Lord and I'm goin' back home to stay
Well I'm leavin' you baby
Lord and I'm goin' back home to stay
Well back home are no floods or tornados
Baby and the sun shines every day

Texas Flood (song)

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

"Texas Flood" (sometimes called "Stormin' in Texas" or "Flood Down in Texas") is a blues song recorded by Larry Davis in 1958. Original song "Texas Flood" is a slow-song about a flood in Texas. Davis used it as a metaphor for his relationship problems:

I had some other entries: Roadhouse Blues by The Doors being one of them and that was one that I just couldn't touch with my thoughts for various reasons. All these songs had a meaning to me.

If I were to write my “Blog Blues” song, it would be where blogging was playing the role of my love interest. I would have a lot of piano in my blues song. I love the pounding of the keys and that sound moves me.

Here we go:

You let me down, baby,

Your words gave me away.

You let me down, baby,

When the heat came out today.

No matter what you do, baby, I want you back to stay.

You let me down, baby,

You took my fun away.

You let me down, baby,

You took my words away.

No matter what you took baby, I want you back to stay.

You let me down, baby,

You made me feel so whole.

You let me down, baby,

With you I have no soul.

No matter how I feel baby, I want you back to stay.

Others talked about you, baby,

I should have shut them down.

Others talked about you, baby,

I should have shut them down.

Others talked about you, not knowing what they say,

Others talked about you baby,

I should have walked away,

Others talked about you baby and I want you back to stay.

I don’t know if you can hear it. I hear it.

It is my “Blog Blues” melting away.

The beat of the song has shown me the way.

If I can stay strong, baby, you’ll be back always.