Writing, Community, and Flat Track Racing

 

 When I started  thinking about what type of creative activity I wanted to get into in retirement earlier this year, I initially thought about music. I have sung with my local community Chorale, and played a little keyboard and guitar around the house, I've even written a few songs back in the day and used to harmonize with my late husband Joe who was a great singer and guitar player. A friend was getting back into playing and producing music, and about this time I reconnected with a friend from high school who has been playing guitar, singing and writing music for years. I never got past the thinking stage though.
     Somehow the idea of writing began to percolate in the back of my mind and I ran into a guy I know through some mutual friends who is a professional blogger and motorcycle journalist. I asked if I could read some of his writings, because he seemed really enthusiastic about what he was doing. He gave me his info and I started reading his work (see ehorseman.blogspot.com). I've never had much interest in motorcycles, even though both my brothers and two of my nephews ride, but this storyteller was able to use his words to connect me to the people on the bikes and the flat track racing community.
     In my lifetime I have  not followed sports outside of Phillies baseball and Eagles football, and the only races I've watched have been the Preakness, which is run in Joe's hometown of Baltimore, and maybe parts of the Indy 500, especially when Janet Guthrie broke into Pro racing. So the fact that I now have watched at least ten AMA Flat Track races this season, know the difference between Singles and Twins, and recognize the names and faces of a lot of the racers and am even planning to attend an event within a few hours away next month surprises me. Reading and talking about these people with the guy who first let me into this world has allowed me to become connected to a racing way of life I would not have wandered into on my own.
     I started writing my blog about the same time I started watching Flat Track. If you've read my stories so far, I've shared random thoughts and memories of my life. So why am I writing about American Flat Track today?  There have been riders injured since I started watching, but I had only heard about it after the fact, thanks to the work of AMA Pro Flat-Track Rookies Class of 79 and Friends, an organization that financially assists injured riders through fund-raising among the AFT community.
     This past month though, it seems there have been more accidents and injuries. Two weeks ago was the first time I saw the red flag come out while I was watching a race. I knew it had to be serious by the length of time it took to get the rider off the field. Unfortunately the young man succumbed to his injuries nine days later. Another racer who has been successful for years is battling back from a serious injury after a recent accident, and just a few days ago I saw the red flag come out again and two other young riders were taken out in ambulances. Fortunately they have been released from the hospital, but I guess time will tell if they'll be able to resume riding.
     After every injury and in the time of loss, I see the AFT family join together in supporting one another. Though they all compete on the raceway, in the world outside the race they are all connected in a way we folks outside can only observe and appreciate.  I guess that is what I'm writing about today. No matter the community, we all have our connections that sustain us- family, faith, recovery.
Let's all take care of  and love one another.
     Go out there and have a good day!

Going to The Feast

   

 Well, I had been thinking about doing a bit on the Feasts that I went to over the years, and this weekend is the Holy Savior feast.. I don't know if it was growing up Italian American in Norristown or not, but it seemed that there were always celebrations of some Saint's day either in our parish or our town, or somehow Grandmom knew of events a hundred miles or more away.
     I can't remember all the names, but I recall they were frequently held in small churches, often in what seemed the middle of nowhere. Grandmom would charter a bus and load up a lot of family and friends to go to Vineland or Hammonton, NJ . I think one of these was for Our Lady of Mount Carmel. There was Saint Rocco's in Martin's Creek, PA. There was always hundreds of people crammed into churches meant for half as many people for Mass, usually followed by a procession and then the feasting would begin.
     There was food and music and rides and vendors and people coming from far away to celebrate. I remember the smell of chicken grilling on open pits in Vineland, always served with a fresh tomato from a nearby farm and, I think, a bag of chips. The celebration of Saint Therese in Nesquehoning,PA was a big draw to another small town on the edge of the Pocono Mountains. It seemed to me that hundreds of buses would crowd the small streets of a town on the side of a mountain and the day always ended with a helicopter dropping rose petals over the town to remember  Saint Theresa "The Little Flower".

     But in my mind and my life The Feast was and continues to be in my little town of Norristown, in what was our family parish, Holy Savior. Held every August, it signals for me the winding down of summer celebrations. As with all the others, the Mass is followed by a procession which used to pass by our front door, For years my Mom would hand out cold water to the people walking to honor God. But as a kid and, even now, it's about food and tradition. If you've ever attended, you know the year is not complete unless you've had a roast pork sandwich and fried dough at the feast.

     When I was little I remember the excitement of being allowed to go with my friends or by myself and wandering around in the crowd. Everyone was lost in  having fun, good food, company and music. It was a community party. I guess that is still the joy in summer gatherings, whether it's a local music festival, a PowWow. state fair or motorcycle races. Anyway, I'm getting off track.
     Last night I met my Mom and my sister at Mass before the Feast. I parked around the corner on Sandy Street, half a block from where I grew up, right next to Holy Savior school. I walked past Penn Street where Charlotte,  my best friend from grade school lived. I'm so glad that twenty-first century media has allowed us to reconnect. After Mass, I ran into another classmate, Linda,  who has stayed in touch with my Mom over the years because they still  attended church there. She reminded me of sharing test answers back in seventh grade, which I didn't remember. Funny thing is I remembered jamming fingers and breaking my glasses because I would literally run into her playing basketball.  We would both go for the ball  but she was always stronger and faster. I never was much of an athlete, but I'm glad to know I helped her pass that test.  I sometimes run into another classmate at The Feast, but I didn't see Josephine there this year.
     Every year we say we have to go to the feast because it might be the last time to attend for Mom who is ninety-four. Every year it gets harder to find a seat to sit and enjoy our pork sandwich and fried dough. Every year there are fewer people for my Mom to connect and reminisce with . Right now as I'm wiping away tears as I write, I know that we will probably go again next year as long as Mom is still able, and maybe I'll continue long after that.
     I had planned to write today, maybe even start on that book I've been thinking about. These thoughts will likely find their way into that book, but I needed to share this today. It's only been a few months since I started writing, but it had been so rewarding to let new people into my world and reconnect with lost friends. I am grateful to my writing community, which continues to grow, for your support. and especially to the person God placed in my path to get me started - Thank you Michael.

Loving Life

   Wow! What a great weekend I just had. It was nothing extraordinary and yet it was. Catching up with old friends and family, lots of music, outdoor exercise. And somehow it all felt connected together.
     Last Wednesday I finally saw the cataract surgeon and scheduled my surgery for October. I'm looking forward to being able to drive at night and just generally see better- especially "The Colors"
people tell me I've been missing- Sorry, I have to smile- I just remember how special that phrase sounded back in my younger days. And to all those who have offered me rides to and from the eye doctor- I will be calling, and appreciate the offers of help.
     Asking for help and letting people in is still hard for me sometimes, though I'm getting a little better. For a good part of my life I've taken care of myself and even when married or in a relationship I had no trouble going off and doing my own thing. Maybe it's the idea of not being able to drive safely wherever and whenever I want.  Maybe that now that I'm living alone for the first time in a lot of years,  I need to open up to others if I'd like company instead of having another person around to talk to all the time, even when it wasn't always the best situation.
     Anyway, this weekend, I got to spend time with my brother Mike who was visiting from South Carolina and caught up with an old friend who I used to work with and hardly see any more. Then I was going to spend time at a music festival, with no plans to meet up with any one, but as so many times lately, my plan is not the only plan in action. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, an outdoor fundraiser with ten live acts, each one better than the one before. I looked up and saw someone I have met a couple of times before, sitting with an old neighbor of mine who also enjoys live outdoor music, and with them was a woman I hadn't seen in probably ten years. She and I had a great time catching up, we all had fun listening to the music and even getting up and dancing, which I love but never do outside of my apartment anymore!  I finished up the evening spending time with my brother and some friends.

     On Sunday morning I was planning to drive twenty miles to the "Hippie Church" up the road for Peace Sunday, but couldn't drag myself out of bed in time. I drove to my local trail for a walk, but there was nowhere to park, so I left and went to my local church instead. I don't recall the exact readings, but they had something to do with God feeding His people and Jesus feeding the crowds. The thing I did hear was when the priest related how when parents fill the fridge and cabinets with food, and kids then open the door and can't find anything to eat. The message being, we can sometimes not see or appreciate all the blessings and gifts we've been given. That touched me deeply with gratitude.
     In the afternoon I listened to a webinar on Shamanism and was reminded of the healing power of living life daily with honor and respect. Then I attended a Hymn festival led by the director of the Norristown Chorale, a local community chorus that I have sung with in the past.  The music for the day was from various faiths and cultures and was a reminder that no matter how we worship or address a Higher Power, there is one God who connects us all in Spirit.
   As if my weekend wasn't full enough, my son Sean came up for dinner. We've both been pretty busy lately and it felt good to sit and spend a couple of hours together. We made plans to attend a music festival together next month. Even though our musical tastes are varied, we can on occasion just share the joy of music together. And since my late husband Joe, was a non-professional musician, I have a feeling he will be joining is in spirit.

     After Sean left, I sat down to watch a little American Flat track racing, a new interest I'm still learning about. After a long rain delay, it was exciting. A different layout than I've seen before, with a lot more crowding and more that a couple of restarts. One of the riders I've been following went down and wasn't able to finish, but thankfully he did get up and I hope to see him and some of the other racers next month at William's Grove which is not too far up the road.
     Wow! That felt good. It's been a little while since I wrote anything,  though I've started a couple of times.  I am so grateful to have people in my life and I do tend to have trouble keeping a balance between quiet reflection and meaningful sharing, but I am alive and open to whatever comes next and  that feels beautiful today.

The Joy of Seeing

Well, the time has come to have a consult for cataract surgery. I'm scheduled to see the surgeon next week to explore options and decide if I'm ready, but my regular eye doctor told me last month that there isn't much more that new eyeglasses will do and if I have the surgery I might not need glasses at all. That sounds pretty exciting since I've been wearing glasses since third grade!
     I was talking with a friend last week about when I first realized I couldn't see well. The teacher was giving a quiz and instead of just leaving blank spaces for us to fill in, she randomly wrote the answers on the blackboard. I knew the answers to the test, but when I looked up,at the board, I couldn't see George Washington because it was on the far side of the room. Being me, I couldn't just raise my hand and tell her, but instead started crying because I couldn't see. She notified my Mom and I was later taken to the eye doctor for the first time. It was great to be able to see clearly.

    Over the years, I've had numerous changes to my prescription as my sight has grown weaker. Of course, for vanity's sake I gave contact lenses a try, but couldn't tolerate them because of dry eyes. I remember the shock about fifteen or more years ago when a student doctor was doing my initial eye exam and exclaimed "A cataract!"- I guess it was the first time she had actually seen one outside the classroom.  Dr John came in and told me it was in the early stages and not a concern, and I have been doing fine until recently.
     I have noticed I'm not as comfortable driving at night on unfamiliar roads. I have not seen people or animals along the side of the road until I was close to them which kind of scared me. Also when driving on major highways I sometimes don't see signs for my turnoff until I'm almost on top of them.   So when the doctor said it's time for surgery I was a bit relieved. Just last week, realizing I would be out of town late at night I reserved a hotel room rather that try to drive home. I'm glad it was only a mile away from the event I was attending, because I had difficulty locating the driveway. I don't think I would have made it back home at night.
  I am grateful for the ability to see, to drive, to be independent and want to continue to be all that for as long as I can.Yeah, I know there's always a risk with any surgery and maybe I'll still need glasses for some things. but the idea of being able to travel more comfortably is a big motivation to get it done. Wish me well.
   

   

Life Goes On and On and On

   

This will be my third attempt this week to write. It seems like after the last post when I bravely spoke about getting ready to start writing a book, I have not come up with anything outside of my daily Morning Pages / journaling that I started back doing at the beginning of the year.
     Last weekend started out on Saturday by following a friend to drop her car off for repairs at the unreal hour of 7 AM. I mean I'm retired and that is no longer part of my routine, right? Anyway after stopping for breakfast before I'm normally awake. I was able to drop her off to retrieve her car. Then a group of us had gotten together at 10 AM as we usually do and one of our ladies was overcome by the heat and another friend and I spent a few hours with her at the local ER. Fortunately she was able to be released after being hydrated and cooled off. By this time it was too hot for me to get my usual walk in so I headed to the laundromat instead and got that chore done. I finished up Saturday watching American Flat Track racing on FansChoice, a new interest for me, thanks to the excellent writing of a  professional journalist and fellow blogger. (see ehorseman.blogspot.com )
     Sunday started out quietly with a visit to my local church followed by a walk on the Schuylkill River Trail. In the afternoon I met a friend at a local book store- yes there are still local book stores- for a book signing by an author I've been reading for a couple of decades. She and her daughter have just released a new book and her daughter has a novel coming out that she has been working on for years. She has a deal, the book is in re-write and should be out next year. She encouraged newbie writers (like me) to keep at it and not lose hope. I needed to hear that. It would have been great to have an actual seat, but thanks to my New Yorker buddy the seats on the tile floor were more comfortable than standing for an hour!  A local band was performing at the hometown park that evening so I headed over there for a while to sit back and soak up some music and chill. I was there all of about ten minutes and ran into two former classmates from high school and a neighbor and her mom from my childhood street.
      My mind was a bit crazy, so I left early to go hang with some friends where I could just sit and listen. On the way out of the park I stepped on what looked like a damp patch of grass, but was instead a foul-smelling mire of mud that sucked my shoes off! I managed to rinse off as much as I could with my water bottle and went home to shower and change. I was able to make it in time and heard what I need to hear to get back to a calmer place. As I was getting ready to leave, a friend asked if I would like to attend Cirque Du Soliel on Thursday! She had gotten tickets from her job and was thinking of asking me to go and I showed up - just like I was meant to be there after all the  running around I'd been doing. Perfect ending to a long weekend.
     Monday was a quieter day- a nice long walk at my favorite park where I could see the tents that had been erected for Cirque Du Soliel.  Later that evening I got to catch up with the aforementioned blogger to talk about the weekend's races. I always enjoy our talks. Tuesday I took Mom to her eye doctor appointment and she was told to come back to see the glaucoma specialists ASAP because her pressures were up. That night I got to see Casablanca on the big screen for the first time, though I've watched it lots of times at home- a quiet fun night.
   Wednesday I was about to take a long ride when my sister called to say Mom had fallen and they were going to Patient First for stitches. Mom is ninety-four and has had a couple falls before, so she wasn't going to bother getting checked except she couldn't stop bleeding. After closing the wound over her eye, the doctor told her she had to go to the ER for a CT scan of her head to make sure she wasn't bleeding. She was not a happy camper, but fortunately everything looked good and she got to go home.  On Thursday, the glaucoma doc told her her pressures were down again, but suggested a laser procedure to stabilize things, She's had it done before, so that's in the works for next month.
     Finally Thursday night, my big night at the circus aka Cirque! We arrived half an hour early and maybe because it was opening night  they were passing out free popcorn, sandwich sliders, cookies, donuts and wine (we had to pay for our water!) . Had I known I would have skipped dinner, Anyway, The show started and was pretty amazing. I have never seen Cirque Du Soliel before except for excerpts on TV. Action, acrobatics, fluid movement, music, breath-taking moments, enough hints for everyone to make up their own story. Per the website, VOLTA focuses on a guy who as a child felt different and in the end finds that it's about being true to himself, about finding our own identity and power. The street bike acrobatic choreography at the finale was amazing!
     So, not every week is like this one has been and looks to continue to be, but people ask what I do in retirement. My initial response was whatever I feel like. It seems like since I started writing, new things are occurring all the time. I can't wait to see what happens next!

I Think We're Going To Need A Bigger Book

Hi All.
This morning I posted a message to a few relatives:

Hey Family, I'm getting ready to start working on a book and wanted to let you all know. If you have any stories or suggestions I'd love to hear from you. Also, would you let the rest of the family know, Thanks so much.

tIntro to "Gravy Every Sunday" Back when I was growing up on Sandy Street, we lived with my Grandmom, Carmella. We moved in with her before I can remember. There was Grandmom, my Mom Mary, sister also named Mary, brother Bob and me. Over the years aunts, uncles and cousins moved in and out as well. I believe at one time that four bedroom house was home to ten of us as well as whichever Army buddy Uncle Joey brought home from Fort Dix for the weekend. There was always room for one more at the table. The best part of the week was Sunday morning when I would wake up to the aroma of meatballs frying in the skillet and homemade gravy cooking on the stove.Every Sunday all the family that lived in town would sit down together. If anyone was not there when Grandmom put the spaghetti dinner on the table, they got a phone call letting them know they needed to get there now!

The responses came quick and numerous as well as suggestions for who else to include and where and when we could all get together to talk it over. I'm starting to think that the writing the memories and the actual sitting down together are all connected to the "gravy". I have seen psychic mediums over the years because of a desire to connect with  husbands and other family members who have passed. Both my Grandmother a while back, and an uncle this year have said they miss the gravy.
As I was out walking this morning it occurred to me that the connection is the coming together as "family" as much as the food itself and  it's preparation.

The book will be written, I have no doubt, and I know I will enjoy the memory of us all getting together again and reflecting on what we have shared in the past. But the gravy in my story can also be the pot-luck picnics shared with friends, coffee and home-made desserts at a meeting or at a friends home, bringing a home-town sandwich or chocolate to a friend up the road  or even Gatorade shared with a member of a different kind of family having a bad day.

So as I start out on this adventure in writing, I have no clear idea where I'm going , but I do have an idea  that it's about taking time on a regular basis to be present to those we care about and maybe establishing pleasant rituals that we can carry with us when they are no longer around. And if we can add a smile and some good food it's all good.