saabwatch 2005

on plymouth on my way to work!

pet sounds.

a story about my family history with cats.

one morning, when i was in 5th grade, my friends and i were out on the playground waiting for the bell to ring so we could go inside and start our school day. tucked away in some bushes we found two small kittens all alone. one of them ran away when we came near. but the smaller one allowed us to pick him up. it was love at first sight. my teacher let me keep him in a box next to my desk all morning. since my mom was also a teacher at my school, she received news that i had found a new friend and was intent on keeping him. somehow, we managed to convince my dad to give it a try. since the kitty was bright orange, we named him pun'kin. our first real dekoster family pet. well, pun'kin, having been raised in the wilds of the ada christian school parking lot, wasn't an easy kitten to train. in fact, he was downright awful. he was constantly trying to escape outside. (i remember using american cheese slices to lure him out of hiding under the deck on numerous occasions.) and he appeared to have no intentions of using a litter box whatsoever. i don't remember exactly how long we kept him, but eventually, my parents were forced to take him to the proverbial "farm with lots of space for him to run and play." and we were devastated.

after some time had gone by, my sisters and i decided to have a go begging my parents to try another kitty. this one would be from a pet store and so hopefully would not cause as much trouble. we convinced them using a skit (we we were prone to do) involving some kind of song and dance routine with words we wrote ourselves about how much we would love and care for this new addition to our family. somehow, again, they were convinced. at the pet store the next day, we picked out a small calico kitten. and, quite unoriginally, named him cali. he was great. good personality. used his litter box like a champ. everything you could ask for. now, considering how difficult he was to convince in the first place, you can imagine our surprise when, a few months later, my DAD informed us all that he was afraid cali was getting lonely and thought he might appreciate a companion. revealing himself as the great softy we all knew he was, my dad drove us to the pet store to get ANOTHER kitty. the store actually had one left from the same litter that cali came from. so we took him home and named him snickers. we had no idea then that this would turn out to be one of the worst mistakes we would ever make.

cats are very territorial. and cali had grown quite accustomed to his new habitat. he wasn't keen on sharing it with anyone else, especially his bratty younger brother. man, these cats would FIGHT! i mean we'd be sitting at the dinner table and they'd be tearing up the family room downstairs screetching and hissing to the point that we became fearful for not only their lives, but ours as well. the pet store owner assured us that this would stop, and sure enough, they eventually came to respect each other. when cali and snickers stopped fighting, we assumed this meant that had become friends. but it would probably be more accurate to say that they had become "partners in crime."

before i continue this story let me just say that cali and snickers were extremely well-behaved for our family. they never bit or scratched at us. they were very mello... when no one else was around...

the first "incident" happened at a gathering my parents had every year around christmastime. little joshie kuipers had been playing innocently in the basement when suddenly he came bounding up the stairs, extremely upset. apparently, he had approached cali to pet him and instead of a warm welcome, received a rather vicious bite on the arm. his parents, being some of our oldest family friends, were extremely understanding, but, from that time on, we tried our best to keep the cats away from strange children they did not know.

i say children because, for some reason, these cats only had a problem with young people. they respected their elders, but kids gave them the creeps. and so whenever children were around they would become very agitated. it sometimes looked as though they were formulating a plan to rid the world of these disgusting short-limbed creatures.

the second incident also occurred in the basement. our cousin paige was in town from california and was downstairs playing "house" with my two younger sisters. she remembers kneeling down to feed the cats a bowl of fake plastic peas. they weren't interested. instead, they began to follow her. after a few moments, she became concerned and asked my sister if the cats normally stalked people in this manner. no sooner had the words left her lips than cali and snickers put their plan into action. they lunged at her. cali on one leg, snickers on the other. holding on to her calves with their claws they scratched and bit her poor little legs 'til they were a bloody mess. i'm not sure how my sister managed to get them off her. but as soon as she did, my mom had no choice but to throw them in the car and drive straight to the animal hospital to have them put to sleep. my last memory of cali and snickers was their innocent little faces meowing at me from inside the van while my mom drove them away.

innocent. ha. they literally ATTACKED my cousin. at the time, though, i'm sure i felt she must have had it coming. who wants to eat fake plastic peas?

my family stayed away from cats for a long time after that. until they got a message on their machine one day from an elderly couple down the street asking if we would take their cat for them because they were going to a nursing home. how do you say no to that. this cat was quite old herself and lasted a few years before she passed away. now they have a black furry cat named neo and she's perfectly lovely. meaning, she has yet to inflict serious bodily harm upon any member of my extended family.

for adam stout...

my good friend adam has requested that i send him an email containing as many details as i can remember about a road trip we took on march 9, 2002. i thought i would post them on my blog, instead.

preface: it was either adam or his equally eccentric cousin timothy that had the very brilliant idea for us to take a road trip to the most random and crappy towns in west michigan. inspired by the LIVE song of the same name, we would call our adventure the "shit town" tour. participants included myself, sarah koeze, keri zylstra, travis west, tim scholton and adam stout. none of the six of us were dating at the time although there was present some mildly ambiguous romantic history.

it was tim's idea for all of us to wear coordinating outfits. the theme we chose was "earth tones." adam also drew a fake goatee on his chin with a marker. he does not take drugs.

we drove in sarah koeze's parents' merlot-colored minivan. we left grand rapids with a map, some snacks, and a lust for adventure. heading north...

our first stop was at my family's home in cascade, mi. cascade is not a shit town. and i have no idea what we did there. we stayed only briefly. i think, just because it was on our way. they politely waited 'til after we left to discuss why i was friends with a boy who had artificial facial hair.

our second stop was in lowell. the historic district. dollar general. adam bought sponge creatures. he threw one of the plastic pill-shaped toys in a large puddle in the parking lot. we all watched it grow into a green dinosaur. we decided we needed beer. and walked to the bar down the street. i think tim was the only one who drank.

as we piled back into the minivan it started snowing, as it is prone to do in the middle of march in michigan. we were all getting hungry. we noticed on the map that the next worthwhile town we would come to was ionia. we decided to stop there for a meal. the snow started coming down harder. we debated about eating at a chinese buffet. then tim spotted a sign for an irish pub. we pulled into a parking spot and got out. but we couldn't find the entrance. we peeked around. finally, tim decided to open a dodgy looking old door and at least ask for some assistance. and this is where the trip really got interesting.

picture this. the snow is coming down in a blizzard behind us. we're all six of us upper-middle class caucasian suburbanite twenty-somethings clad in various shades of army green and camel. adam has a fake goatee. we pound open the unmarked door which does, in fact, lead to the aforementioned irish pub. an entire bar full of regulars looks up at us from their mugs of miller lite. there is a brief pause. and then. every last person in the room welcomes us in with a hearty "HEY!" and a round of applause. it was as if they'd been expecting us all along.

the bartender promptly ushered us into a side room containing an old pinball machine and two large wooden tables for us to sit around. we were informed that the only food they had to offer was burgers and fries. ravenous, we immediately ordered six plates and a round of drinks. no sooner had we removed our jackets and taken our first frothy sips when another round was delivered to our table. they had been graciously purchased for us by one of the regulars at the bar. his name was gomer. he told racy jokes.

we couldn't have been more out of place, and yet, we couldn't have felt more welcome. by the end of the afternoon we had the entire bar posing for pictures with us. and when we left, they invited us to come back and visit again soon. i'm pretty sure they meant it, too. confident that nothing else we would see on our shit town tour could top what we had just experienced, we decided to head home.

unfortunately, adam, many of the details have since faded from my mind. and i still have no idea how you were able to remove that permanent marker from your face. but thank you for encouraging this delightful stroll down memory lane. i certainly hope you enjoyed it, too.

thanks for your order!

around this time of year my mailbox becomes inundated with fall fashion catalogues. i love this. i've loved looking at catalogues ever since i was little. in second grade, my best friend sharon and i would look through the giant ones you get from places like sears where you can find everything from sweaters to sofas to snow blowers. we'd take turns playing the client and the salesperson. and we'd order ourselves an entire fake life. one time her mom even caught us picking out which male model would be our husband. she, of course, had a good laugh over it and i felt embarrassed for weeks afterwards. but even now, there's something about being able to live vicariously through these publications that is so appealing to me. like having a new lifestyle delivered right to your doorstep. as i turn the pages of the anthropologie catalogue i spend a few brief moments imaging what my life would be like if i always wore velvet and lace and high-heeled shoes and lived in a huge old victorian farmhouse and entertained dinner guests with my tales of overseas adventure and wrote poetry and drank wine and read large dusty old novels for fun. perusing the latest jcrew offering i am whisked away to a world of yacht racing and polo matches and spending entire summers wearing nothing but bathing suits and flowy tunics at my beachfront cottage with no worries but what to grill for dinner and is there enough corona in the icebox.

of course i always walk a fine line between admiring and coveting what i see in these catalogues. i know it's time to put them away when my dreams of decorating my entire house with nothing but pottery barn furniture turn into feelings of inadequacy or unhappiness because i'm not constantly surrounded with what these catalogues tell me are the "finer things in life." there's nothing wrong with a little daydreaming now and then. but there's also nothing wrong with my life just the way it is. although those pleated cuffed wide-leg herringbone trousers were awfully cute...

kids, don't litter.

talking with liz on our way back from meijer about how annoying it is when people throw cigarette butts out the window of their vehicles has reminded me of a story.

the story is set in east grand rapids, which is generally regarded as the "high class" part of town. it's all bmw's and mansions and polo shirts as far as the eye can see. the grass is green. the trees are tall. everyone has a boat. it's actually a very beautiful area.

one morning, quite a few years ago, i was driving to my church for some kind of youth group fundraiser. i was stopped at the intersection of lakeside and robinson road. facing me, heading in the opposite direction, was a shiny new silver convertible. an older gentlemen was driving while two teenage boys sat in the back seat. it was most likely a father and his sons. probably rushing to make their morning tee-time at the country club. the father was sipping from a bottle of water. just before the light changed, i watched him gulp down the last few drops. screw the cap back on. and toss the empty bottle onto the side of the road as he drove past me. toss. the water bottle. on. the. side. of. the. road. and this was no highway we were driving on. it was right next to someone's front yard. i practically stopped my car in the middle of the intersection, my jaw agape with surprise and disgust. i might have expected that kind of arrogance and disregard for common decency and human responsibility from the teenage boys. but the father? way to set a good example for the youngsters, dad. it honestly makes my blood boil just thinking about it.

there are plenty of reasons why i find this kind of behavior loathsome. not the least of which being the simple fact that litter is unpleasant to look at. but if this man treats his own neighborhood with such carelessness, i shudder to think how he must behave in neighborhoods adjacent where people don't drive mercedes or live in homes the size of train stations.

i have trouble looking past little things like this. thoughtless actions, however small, almost always reveal larger attitudes lurking under the surface. for the rest of that morning i wavered between feelings of righteous indignation and depression at the thought that those boys were being raised to believe that the world was their own personal garbage can. by throwing his water bottle onto the ground their dad had basically said to them, "do whatever your hearts' desire, kids. someone else can clean up the mess."

i'm sure i don't need to wax eloquent about the dangers of that particular philosophy.

10 things that are true.

1. there is a small population in quito, ecuador that views me as a celebrity.
2. i am traveling to quito in a month and secretly hope someone asks for my autograph.
3. i switched majors from education to communications my junior year of college because i was certain that i didn't want to teach.
4. i am returning to school in september to get my teaching degree.
5. my grandparents are constantly telling me they hope i get married before they die.
6. i hope i get married before I die.
7. today i've spent more time watching video blogs than i have working.
8. i've only spent about 30 min watching video blogs.
9. i swore that i would never purposely watch the movie the notebook.
10. last night i watched the notebook. on purpose. and liked it.

the 4th

uncle sam

so here's the thing.

i love the 4th of july. it's been one of my favorite holidays since i was a little kid. when my parents used to dress my sisters and me up in matching red, white and blue outfits. when we'd decorate our bikes with streamers and ride in the parade.

i love holidays and family traditions. i love blueberry pancakes. i love parades and picnics and fireworks. i love root beer barrels and tootsie rolls and red, white and blue jello that my grandma would make in little individual cups. i love going downtown with a blanket and watching other families enjoy their own traditions. and listening to cheesy cover bands play in front of the gerald r ford museum. i love walking on the bridge just after they close it down and reuniting with all my old high school friends. i love sparklers and flags and fire trucks and men dressed up as uncle sam.

i think it's irresponsible to live in this country under the shelter and protection of the freedom that so many people have died for and not be thankful for it. george w bush did not invent america. you can be patriotic and a non-republican. you can be proud to be an american and not arrogant. yes, this country has a lot of ugly history. every country does. there are plenty of things in american history that no one should be proud of. there are plenty of things happening right now that no one should be proud of. i'm not especially proud of the reputation that the US has in the world right now. i'm not particularly proud to have a guy like john bolton representing me in the UN. but i am proud of the basic principles on which this country was founded. and i think we've come an awfully long way in the short time we've existed. i'm proud of that and, at the same time, willing to acknowledge that we still have a long way to go.

i think it's important to distinguish between the US being a great country and being the greatest country in the world. the first is unarguably true. the second is an elitist attitude that has gotten us into trouble and will ultimately get us nowhere. there are plenty of great nations in this world. i'm proud to be among them. and i hope that in the not-so-distant future, citizens of this country and its leaders will no longer give artists a valid reason to write songs like this one.

cuz america can
and america can't say no
and america does
if america says it's so
it's so
and the achor person on tv
goes "la de da de da"
- the decemberists