R.I.P. 124 Miller Lane

I was driving the back roads home this fine Sunday afternoon after playing a festival with The Band up in the central part of the state. We’d had an extremely successful weekend and we might have even picked up an extra partner – or at least we’re hoping. But the response to our music was very positive and so we were all riding high. It was a nice time.

I love these drives.

I need these drives,,,

they offer a change of scenery and perspective; a way to recharge my batteries and think outside the box. They’re also a great time for catching up on what I call ‘phone correspondence’ without the clock breathing down my neck as it does during the week. And while some folks can’t abide them, I Love a road trip – even a mini one.

I noticed on my phone, the annunciation: “You have new Picture Mail!” and hit the button.

How nice, I thought. It was from my sister, Mighty Moe, who still lives in our hometown with her husband, along with 'World’s Smartest Nephew’. A slide show – by text message! What’ll they think of next? I’d supposed the pics to be of my nephew involved in sports or some church choir activity, but not for long.

At first they were a bit confusing – a grey mass of what appeared to be smoke and trees, all blurred in together. But then it took only a brief moment to recognize the steps leading up to the front porch and foundation of what was once my parents' home and the house where I grew up.



Talk about memories flashing through your mind all at once – wow….almost too much to process. I could go on and on about the all ‘nearly’ all-nighters my parents would throw for the old-timer musicians who taught me how to play, or all of us kids at one time or another bringing home the ‘newest’ love of our life to subject them to the meeting of the Miller clan – bless them all; the countless Sunday dinners around the table - and I know that all of us have clear recollections of the last time we drove away from the house, Mother waving to us from the front porch as we backed out of the drive – each of us wondering if this would be the last time.

The fire is supposed to have begun around 2:00 a.m. My brother was the first to be notified by a friend.

“Louie?? I was just listening to the police scanner in my bedroom, and they say there’s a house fire up on Miller Lane.. think it’s your folks’??”

(Now, before I go on – no, this is not a misquote. This is Kingston, Tennessee. And it’s just not uncommon for someone in my hometown keep a police scanner in their bedroom - OR, better yet, to be listening to it at 2:00 a.m.)

So up he ‘got’ and pulled on his drawers – (not makin’ this up!) as he only lives about half a mile away, and looked out toward the hill to see the flames - about three hundred feet high, from several accounts. A sinking feeling came over him, and he knew instantly: “Yup, that’s The House”, and drove up to greet the fire department.


My brother and two sisters – a set of triplets, incidentally – have had ongoing interactions with a neighbor who has been aggressively trying to purchase the property. With each refusal to sell, this party would make some snide comment; something along the lines of “Well, let’s just hope you keep those tax notices up to date, that is, if they don’t get lost in the mail.”

This person had even spoken to my brother again, just the day before the flames, about the possibility of purchasing the property – in that pragmatic, caring, neighborly way that they have…. My brother explained that at this point he most certainly did not see that happening as he would be moving back into the house in the next few weeks to do some remodeling, making it ready for rental. The frustrated neighbor walked away in disgust, shaking its head.



This afternoon, as I he and I discussed possible causes, he assured me that it couldn’t have been electrical, because the power had been off for quite some time… and so we all can’t wait to hear the results of the investigation. This should be very interesting.

There is one other strange little item in all of this – and no story about a homestead fire in a small southern town would be complete with out this kind of peculiarity -

When the house went – apparently EVERYthing went. The garage, out buildings – everything. My brother said the fire was so hot that it melted his tools in the garage, just to give you some idea.

Now…

My mother had two bibles......one she kept on her night stand - always.....which my sister now has in safe keeping......but she had another study bible; one with large print and in which she kept notes in the wide margins for teaching Sunday school, etc..... this bible was in a box out in the garage.. (and why there I'll never know) But anyway, when my brother began to sift through the rubble late this afternoon, seeing basically nothing but ash all around ......melted tools, etc…

There on the ground… although slightly frayed around the edges, but readable, was Mother's study bible.

And not only that, but the old church bulletins with back notes she’d made on them as well, from years worth of sermons – all perfectly in tact.

At first I thought, rather smugly:

“This is a good sign.” “And it appears that Mom must have thought Louie needed to find these things Much more so than I.”

Because I’m not sure how, but knowing her as I did, I’m almost certain that since I don’t live in town that if I had been the chosen one she’d have found some way to mail them to me.

And then my brother said:

“In talking with the girls, we agreed that you should probably be the keeper of all the religious stuff. So I’ll just mail ‘em to you later this week.”

It didn’t hit me until after I’d hung up the phone.

On Not Counting Your Chickens Before the Fat Lady Doesn't Sing

O.k… so the New York thing didn’t happen. So much for the mental or physical disaster I mentioned.

But the most disturbing thing about the New York thing not panning out wasn’t

“not getting the job”.

I’ve had similar turns in life and expect them again.

No, the thing that really ‘T’’s me off about the whole thing is that it was Such a Great Post in this Blog, that I Hated to not be able to follow through, if only for that sake alone. O well… I’m really not crushed. Too much going on for that. A little shocked, perhaps, but not devastated.

I can’t recall ever having gone after a position in my field that I really wanted and not getting it. I have all the required ‘stuff’: background, references, etc. I interview very well. So what the hell happened??

Let’s see… (*fade-out harp music) When last we left Me and Mr. Potential Employer – the dialogue went something like:

“...., thanks for your e-mail outlining the issues we discussed during our recent talks. I will review the letter over the weekend to avoid any misunderstandings, and get back to you on Monday, and we can finish this thing up. Have a nice weekend and we’ll talk then.”

Monday


Tuesday


Wednesday


Thursday


Friday
“Dear Mr. L, Just touching base (to use a phrase I HATE with a passion) to see if I might be able to address any questions or concerns you might have regarding our recent correspondence. Please feel free to either call or e-mail at - blah blah blah…”


Weekend


Monday


Tuesday…


It is now the end of February and I have long since stopped looking for Mr. Potential Employer’s picture on the side of the milk carton. He's gone and he ain’t comin’ back – and what’s more, I don’t care. Just not that thrilled and never really was – other than the fact that it would have been a very nice salary increase with hours which were much more conducive to a sane, healthy, rational personal life.

I have an idea and some speculation as to why, but over all I’m not sure way deep down that this may have been meant for me. Even after having returned from NY last month….there was still something in my gut that said ‘this still may not be right for you, MrM’, and not because I was scared of ‘The Job’. I know that I could have done ‘The Job’ with my eyes closed. But I think that if there was just one thing that kept a check in my heart about it all was that it would have taken me out of the one thing that I truly enjoy most about this profession: The day-to-day ops of the houses I would be managing. I don’t know if I’m ready to give that up yet. And that may have been the one thing that kept me from projecting the energy I’d need to follow through. Who can say?

I am fortunate enough in my profession to work within a network of agencies, and two incredible agents in particular whom I’ve known for years. So I don’t really sweat the search like I probably should, and it’s kind of spoiled me in a way.

Unlike most people who begin the dreaded process, when I begin looking I don’t have to check in to Monster.com or any other e-source, or mail out a bunch of resumes. I just pick up the phone and say: “I wanna throw my hat in the ring – whaddaya got goin’ on?” I have to laugh when I think about how easy it is. I think of it sort of like Hallowe’en night, standing on the front porce of the agency with my bag held high, yelling:

“Trick or Job!”

So there are currently a couple of interviews in the works pending the scheduling of travel and meeting times ( I secretly love using vacation time for this – so help me, I don’t know why) and so when the time is right I’ll fly to Chicago to meet with all three them on “one of them’s” dime.

I know it won’t happen overnight. From the time an employer shows an interest in a candidate it could be anywhere from two to four months before moving day – which should just about cast my moving van tail lights on the northern bands of the first hurricane of the season before leaving town.

What would I ultimately like to do?

My goal, and I do have one…

After struggling through the first 20 years of this adventure in private service, I think I’d just like to find the job and the salary that my education and experience and demand - a workplace where communication is a two-way street, rather than a dead-end alley. I know these are both realistic and attainable.

And then, quite simply, I’d like to funnel the outcome of both these goals in to a real estate portfolio that would usher me into what I call ‘financial independence day’. And then……I think I’d like to direct.

It's All about Emma

...or at least today it was.

Now, I ask you…. how does anyone say NO to Disney?? Especially when the numero uno entertainment complex in the entire universe is just about three hours up the road?? And how does one say ‘no’ to the most engaging seven year-old on the planet, when she asks: “Are you coming to see us at the Magic Kingdom, Uncle Mr. Miller?”

Does a one-legged duck swim in a circle?? Did Rose Kennedy own a black dress??
Of course I am coming to see you, Emma; I’ll be there late Saturday afternoon.”

Someday,,, when I sit down to write my memoirs, the chapter about Emma’s mother and my friend, Korie, will begin with the words: “I liked her instantly”.

Korie, or as I call her, "Kortense", and I have been friends since our accidental meeting at a Media Play store in Alpharetta, Georgia over 12 years ago. We just began chatting one Saturday afternoon and have been talking ever since.

Last week, Korie’s husband was going to be tied up with some extra long hours at the office, and suggested she take her mother and the girls down to Orlando for a long weekend, and when either of us are nearby the other is always assured an invite, although sometimes it may be last minute. So when I got the call I didn’t hesitate: change of clothes in the duffel and up the turnpike I went.

Now without trying to sound too sappy here, I just don’t see how anyone, of any age, can drive onto Disney property without feeling different. Something happens to you when you are about to leave reality and enter his world. As Walt used to say, “Magical”. But truly, the only way to really enjoy this experience is through the eyes of a child.

It’s a given: As soon as Emma and I see each other … right after the hugs.. she immediately ends up on my shoulders for conveyance, and a camel’s-eye view of her surroundings. And this visit is no different – off we go to plan our strategy, with Korie dutifully in tow. We only have about 7 hours to see and do what we’d like to see and do – and so we plan wisely. Which in this case means NO agenda..and we do whatever we feel like - and WHEN we (she) feel(s) like it.


First stop, Space Mountain, and then on to the Tomorrowland Speedway, where we came in pretty much first in our race; that is if you don’t count the cars in front of us. We took a spin on the Carousel of Progress (it was sort of spooky that we knew pretty much the entire song by heart before it was over!)

Next was Buzz Lightyear’s Spin, and then down the 52 foot drop at Splash Mountain.

Mercifully, the park wasn’t all that crowded so we didn’t have the usual irritations of long lines or immobility, but instead were really able to enjoy the visual aspect that the creator worked so hard to achieve.

Everything the public takes for granted didn’t ‘just happen’. It was well thought out in advance, after the style and inspiration of Mr. Disney himself. I was told that he would anonymously follow guests out of a candy shop and count the number of steps they would take before the wrapper fell to the ground, giving him a guide as to where and how far apart trash cans should be positioned.

And while these are the things that might intrigue an adult, by far the most enjoyable thing to me that day was watching it all through the eyes of Emma. Seventh Heaven! -and completely contagious. Just a little girl, so happy you could almost patent it, on overload, without a care in the world, other than how quickly she could get right back on my shoulders when each ride was done and on to the next one. It transported me to a different place for a while, and sort of made me remember what matters most.

So now we’ve been at it a few hours and it’s time to refuel.

But wait.. not yet?? “What’s that, Sweetie…? One more? “Sure!!” “The Haunted Mansion?” “Of Course!”

It was kind of odd this trip in that there really was no line or wait – just straight into the front hall elevator and let the games begin!

Time is moving on though… we’re beginning to feel the tug…

Ok – now we’re startin to see some exhaustion, and perhaps a bit of crankiness workin’ It’s definitely time for some grub. Due to the diminished crowds, most of the sit-down restaurants seem to be closed, or not taking any more reservations, so we make due with a fast food joint and order up.

Uh oh… now we ARE getting a bit tired and whiney, awwww.. Dinner's done, but there's too much STUFF to do and not enough Emma to do it ...

So Korie says, I’m goin’ over here to wait, Mr. Miller, would you mind to do ‘that thing you do’?? "She'll listen to you."

“Certainly.”

Sitting down on the café chair, just inside the door, Emma standing just in front of me, with the cutest, pouty, tired-lil-girl face ya ever saw – I explain to her, as calmly as I can:

“Now honey, we know you’re tired… in fact we all are, just a bit, but we only have a certain amount of time to visit together before we all have to head back home. So even though we don’t have much energy left we still have to save what we Do have so that we don’t mess things up for the rest of us – does that seem fair?”

*Emma nods.

“But we DO have only a couple of choices here, so I want YOU to tell me what we should do, o.k.? “

Again, Emma nods.

“You know that Uncle Mr. Miller doesn’t really care to be around little girls when they act like that, right?”

*Nod.

“So… if you like, and this is all up to you… we can either just say goodbye now, and I can get into my car and head back home, knowing that we probably won’t be able to visit again for a long time…OR …

We can pull our shoulders back, and readjust our attitude and remember that WE’re not the only people here,,, and think about how what we do affects others, and just chill out a bit for a little while more and have some fun.”

(faced with the prospect of losing her pal (and favorite mode of transportation), Emma considers very carefully now)

“So, Sweetie,,, what’d’ya think??”

(Interesting, what a child will do when not backed into a corner, per se, but given a couple of choices that that allow them to think through ‘decisions vs. consequences’. No one gets forced or embarrassed; just a calm, rational discussion between two humans, and workin it all out... No need to yell or threaten, no “time out” (shudder!!!) just impart some information that they can use to make informed decisions – very interesting, indeed. – I wish my father had thought like that – ha!)

“Mom…??” (her hands on hips, head tilted slightly, looking as if she were the chairman of the board, and completely in charge…) I think we're just gonna chill now, and ride some more rides before Uncle Mr. Miller has to go.., o.k?”

“Sure, Sweetie, that’ll be just fine…“ and off we go.

And so we did “chill” .. and we did realign, and we did finish out the day under fireworks and a visit with the Pirates of the Caribbean – and Our Gal had a great time.

It’s funny, I went with the sole goal of making sure that Emma had the best time possible and in return, just being able to live it all through her was the best time possible for me. I don’t know how it all works, but it seems like a fair trade.