Overbooked and Underpaid: Notes from a Yes-aholic

Midlife Crisis

I'm going to break a rule today. I'm going to take a moment to step away from the cheerful, humorous vibe I try to maintain here and indulge in a cathartic journaling exercise. It's probably going to depress you so you can stop reading now and go find something uplifting somewhere else. 

This has been a horrible year. A nasty, yucky, suckfest of a year. 

Among other things - death of pets, poor health of family, crises of extended family with substance and pregnancy issues, loss of property, and generally living in a country with a bunch of doodooheads for politicians (both sides), this is the year that my midlife crisis hit. 

With a vengance.

I know everyone gets their midlife crisis eventually and it's really just my turn. But members of my generation have a little something extra on their midlife plate as every institution we've ever known or had any faith in collapses or is wiped out by the current regime. (Again, both sides)

Know anyone these days with job security? Good health benefits? Bonuses? Sound investments? A solvent pension? A retirement plan that is actually on solid ground and will not only let you retire at a decent age but will actually keep up with inflation and give you enough to live on?

Good for you. I don't. 

I know a lot of friends who thought they were on solid ground and had everything set up. The last two years wiped them out.

My generation already had a tenuous grasp on hopefulness. For me it started in the third grade with the well intentioned teacher who saw fit to teach us about the atomic bomb. After explaining all the horrors of what it did to the folks you dropped it on, she put special emphasis on the bit where it didn't really matter who used it first because there would certainly be retaliation and the radiation cloud would drift all over the entire world and wipe us all out anyway. Duck and cover, indeed.

And her name wasn't even Strangelove.

I'm sure she had no intention of robbing me and all my classmates of any hope for a future, but that was the result. Well, in my case anyway.

So I never gave much thought to what I would be when I grew up because I figured I wasn't ever going to grow up. When my friends calculated how old they would be when the millennium changed in 2000, I didn't bother to do the math and didn't have the heart to tell them they shouldn't bother either.

The posturing of Ronald Reagan and the movie "The Day After" and - in fact, pretty much all the "big stick" "evil empire" rhetoric of the 1980's didn't help any.

Then the Soviet Union collapsed and it felt as though the sun had finally come out after a long, cold war winter. And the roaring 90's were all about good times and making money and having lots of opportunities.

As I gradually came out of my fear induced cocoon and embraced the idea of a world not dominated by the threat of nuclear annihilation, I looked forward to working my way of the ladder of success and financial stability - if not security.

This was the atmosphere in which my husband and I dared to dream a few dreams and believe in ourselves and this grand ol land of opportunity.

Only, you know that whole land of opportunity thing? Here's what I feel my parent's generation has to say:

"Yeah, about that - a whole bunch of us came and grabbed those opportunities and then we paid a lot of money to the people in government to make sure no one else gets any. So your opportunities are kind of over. Nothing personal - it's just that, now that we have all the money, we'd kind of like to keep it. No hard feelings. Best of luck. Ciao!"

And, not only do I have to watch all the things I worked so hard for over the years vanish, I get to watch all the politicians who are sitting in the pockets of the rich (again, both sides) just get up there and lie to us about everything that is going on.

Let me see if I have this right - if you regulate corporations (and I'm not talking little Mom & Pop outfits with 100 employees or less, I'm talking honkin' big international companies here)  and make them pay their fair share to keep this country functioning so that it truly is, and will remain, the land of opportunity - they'll get mad, take their ball and go home.

Aaaand - if you give them everything they ever wanted, every tax break in the book, and bend over backwards to keep them profitable - they'll still take their ball and go home.

Despite a tidy level of profitability this year, these guys are still sending our jobs overseas. Or simply not hiring at all.

So forgive me if I'm having a hard time embracing the next 20-30 years of servitude I'm looking at just to stay afloat.

And the real reason I'm overbooked and underpaid? Because if I stay in constant motion I won't have to stop and cope the reality of a life where probably 80% of the things I do are for no pay and the rest are for little pay. And there are no opportunities to turn them into things that do pay. At least not on any scale large enough to retire.

At least they wear me out enough to put me to sleep at night.

And for those of you that will say to me that I am in a situation of my own making and that I made bad choices for my life - well, didn't we all.

It's my blog and I'll vent if I want to.

It's Been A Quiet Week In Lake Wobegon....

Profuse apologies to Garrison Keillor for the theft of his sentence. And his brand name.

Of course I don't live in Lake Wobegon and it's been anything but a quiet week.

I think my last quiet week may have been in 2007. Or maybe even 1990. (I had no children at that point and only one job.)

Although - with my daughter in her second day of sleep-away camp - this may turn out to be the quietest week of my summer. Which is how I have carved out a little time to catch you all up on the latest bout of overbooked madness that I now realize I can only refer to as "par for the course".

Exactly 2 weeks ago was the one year anniversary for this blog. I've been so overbooked I didn't even register it until today. Poetic. 

Anyway, here is a list of the things I said yes to in the last 12 months:

Compiled and edited the first collection of my husband's work into book form "The Edison Files: Notes From The Lab". This was a huge project but well worth the time and energy.

Accepted a position on my daughter's school board and, subsequently, a number of projects and a couple of committees.

Accepted the position of music teacher to the upper elementary and adolescent classrooms of said school when the former teacher up and left two weeks before the start of school. My "temporary" position will be extended by another year as the replacement teacher slated to take over from me has had a change of heart.

Set aside much of my gigging calendar for harp to accompany my husband on his various cartooning and speaking engagements. This was a total blast. I'd do it again in a heartbeat - impact on our finances be damned.

Began yet another blog for cartoonist publicity called Spot The Cartoonist. This has sucked massive amounts of time out of my schedule for absolutely no $ whatsoever. To date, I have had exactly one tip. I love this project and feel that it is very worthwhile but I must make it financially workable this year.

Dealt with losses of wonderful dogs and failing health of relatives.

Rushed out and got a new puppy - guaranteeing a summer of potty training.

Decided - all on my own, no outside pressure was brought to bear - that suggesting  Carthage bring the exhibit "One Fine Sunday In The Funny Pages" to Kenosha was not enough and I should organize a Cartooning Festival around the opening of the show.

This last one has been huge and eroded a little piece of my attention from each of the former commitments. Not only did I decide to involve three separate institutions - each with their own bureaucracies and scheduling considerations - I am responsible for all the scheduling of events and acquiring of speakers, all the publicity, all the financing and all the food. And drinks. And fetching people from the airport and driving them from point A to point B.

Over the course of three days.

Oh, and did I mention the really good bit? The bit where I have everyone over to my house for a big party?

That last is the kicker. Because, first of all, there is my little OCD I told you about. I now have 7 weeks to get all those areas sanded, prepped and painted. Secondly there is our disaster of a backyard. And, thirdly, is our ex-driveway, courtesy of the big storm of June 30.

But this is all good actually, because we are the sort of people who need a good swift kick in the pants to get things done. We are finally putting up the privacy fence we have put off for 6 years. John has scraped down and repainted our horrible peeling garage door and is building the patio we've always dreamed of. (Which means I get to run around to antique malls and thrift stores looking for cool garden and patio stuff.) We are clearing out all the old nasty, weedy plants and putting in nice, new, pretty ones. And building some cute little rock walls to put the plants next to. And my family will no longer have to look at this:

every time they turn around.

And - if I get really motivated - I might even finish this border I began painting 6 years ago.

Heck, I might even paint this one too! (Look hard - it's only drawn in pencil right now.)

Working through the details of the festival has been challenging. There have been a couple crises - what would an event of this scale be without them - but, overall, everything is going pretty smoothly and everyone I have had to coordinate with has been - without exception - absolutely wonderful and enthusiastic.

The only real problem is that when I look at the other column of my life - the one where I sift through and eliminate a few things - there has been no progress whatsoever.

Which is a fancy way of saying I still am a committed yes-aholic with a rescue complex who can't say no to anything or get rid of anything.

I'd like to say that my goal this year is to remedy that situation and put my life into a better balance but I would absolutely be lying. 

Especially since this is the senior year of high school for son # 2. 

Approximately 5 minutes after I finish with the festival I will put on my "get all the college application info sorted out" hat and away we will go.

I guess I'll get plenty of rest when I'm dead.

Kenosha Festival of Cartooning

If you've noticed that I haven't been blogging much lately, it's because I'm working on a monster project called the Kenosha Festival of Cartooning. When the Carthage College Gallery director expressed an interest in bringing "One Fine Sunday in the Funny Pages" to Kenosha this fall, I decided to organize a festival around it

(Yes, I realize this is yet another symptom of my Overbooked - Yes-aholic sickness)

Anyway, I've started a new blog for all things festival related that you can check out here: Kenoshacartoonfest 

I'll be posting regular updates on the festival site daily and also trying to get back to blogging here a little more often.

Of course, regular readers are probably all to familiar with my good intentions when it comes to blogging......

Whacked!!

This has been an interesting Spring/Summer for us weatherwise. If I were a paranoid sort of person, I would think someone up there has it in for us.  We spent the end of May dodging some of the most severe storms seen in the Midwest in years (you can read about that little gem of a road trip here.) Then, right after we drove back West across Massachusetts, that state was hit by a series of Tornados. For those of you who live in the midwest where such things are common, it would probably help to know that New England is not known for twisters.

In mid June, our area was hit by a pretty serious windstorm that took out several trees along the lakefront and we took it in stride. 

Then, June 30th at approximately 7:45 we got whacked.

It had been a pretty normal day, hot but not that oppressive, high humidity, 90+ degree heat that usually precedes serious storms. I was in the backyard trying to convince our 16 week old puppy that now would be a good time to empty his bladder and let me move on to other exciting household chores. John had just finished watering the garden and headed in  to change clothes. And our daughter was at the bottom of the driveway creating her usual sidewalk chalk masterpieces.

Little things I remember:

Far off rumbles of thunder and a vague flash or two of lighting which led me to believe that my efforts to get the dog to pee were going to be fruitless.

John looking up at the sky, which had turned a sickly shade of yellow green and commenting: "Sky's looking pretty weird - Tornado weather...." (We've spent most our lives in Tornado riddled states so we pretty much know that sky when we see it.)

And, I would later find out that my daughter happened to have her camera with her and also had the presence of mind to feel that something was brewing because she filmed the clouds as they passed overhead and commented "Clouds are moving pretty fast....."

The next thing I knew I was surrounded by a wind I can only describe as "Wizard of Oz" like in it's intensity. I ran to the top of the driveway and yelled down to Kate, only to have my words whipped back into my face. I gestured frantically and screamed as loud as I could to get her attention. She looked up and give me the typical 12 year old "Just a minute" raised finger. "NO! RIGHT NOW!!" I screamed.

They say a Tornado sounds like a freight train. Well, I live right next to some train tracks and hear the freights go by on a regular basis and I can attest to the fact that this wind sounded exactly like a freight train. At that point I knew I had to get my daughter and myself into our house and down into our basement immediately.

As we ran into the house I practically threw Kate and the puppy down cellar stairs and started screaming at John to get out of the upstairs. All I could hear was stomping and swearing. Turns out he was wrestling with the windows on our addition trying to get them closed and they kept whipping out of his grasp. He also was watching our 4 cedars lean over our cars at a 40 degree angle, threatening to snap at any moment.

Less than a minute after getting into the basement, the power went out and all was blackness. Three minutes after that it was all over. We could no longer hear that freight train wind and we emerged to take stock of the damage.

This is the first thing we saw:

Followed by this:

And this:

(That would be the transformer for our bit of the neighborhood) 

One by one the neighbors all emerged like folks leaving an air raid shelter. As we checked to see that everyone was all right and started to assess the damage we encountered this:

What you may not be able to see right away is the fact that there are two giant Maple trees down and that, under them, is a house.

From this angle you still cannot see that, to the immediate right of the house with the red roof is another house covered by tree. 

Here you can finally get a sense of the damage.

This was taken 3 days later after the tree removal crew had cleared the first tree and already spent a day and a half working on the second. The good news is that the tenant in the lower half of the house was unhurt and the tenant in the upper half was away from home at the time. Which was a very good thing as the tree sliced through the roof and into the upper story playroom where the little boy who lived there watched TV and played his video games. Under that tree is small child's chair that was completely annihilated. I'm told that the plaster is cracked on every wall, the doors won't close, and the entire house was knocked back off its foundation.

Needless to say the entire neighborhood was without power. John hopped on his bike to check on our sailboat in the harbor and also see if there was any power at his office. The good news was that our boat was fine and his studio still had power so, if push came to shove, we could always relocate down there. 

We would later find out that the harbor was hardly the unscathed area that John had thought. While our dock was fine, it turns out that several of the other docks broke free of their pylons and went careening back and forth in the marina. The dock immediately north of ours headed southwards, running into our dock. It then ricocheted back north and came to rest intertwined with the next dock over. In the following photo you can only just see that some of the boats are touching and the gap between the docks is not the 20 feet it is supposed to be.

The northernmost dock actually ran aground and these boats are all sitting on their propellers. Witnesses in the marina said that an enormous wall of water - possibly a series of waterspouts - climbed over the breakwater and slammed into everything in its path. 

It turns out we were extremely lucky. Our only real damage was the loss of our ancient lilac bush,

and the demise of our driveway. At first it looked as though our cars would remain trapped near our garage indefinitely but John managed to rig up a ramp and draw a sort of map with chalk to navigate the cars through. (The rainbow came compliments of Kate. Below she has written "cheer up - it's a rainbow" - gotta love that attitude!) Another note - the neighbor has been working on his garage and hired a dumpster for his debris. That dumpster saved his deck and his garage. The tree didn't even dent it.

The next morning I headed out on my bike to take stock of the rest of the area and take some pictures:

My daughter in my immediate neighbor's yard among 2 of the 6 trees he lost.

 

An all too common sight all over the area.....

Our lakefront parks lost probably 65% of their older trees.

You cannot truly get a sense of the scope of this. It is a pavilion roof for a picnic area and is easily 50 feet across.
 

Another overturned tree - the people give you a sense of the size of the roots. This is probably a 150 year old tree.

Another view of the same roots - This tree is right along the lakefront at the edge of the park and I'd love to know how the bricks got into its root system. There are no buildings anywhere near it. Perhaps filler from an ancient breakwater?

Another of the area's oldest and biggest trees - if you look closely you can see a young man sitting on the tree.

A closer view of the same tree's roots.

Let's hope this port-o-potty was unoccupied.....

 

An "ex" garage

Here is the same garage two days later after the trees are removed. At the right you can see the neighbor's demolished red car. Which was, sadly, brand, spanking new....

The scene at historic Kemper Center where John had a previous studio.

 
 And finally, our breakfast the day after the storm. When you are about to lose all the ice cream in your freezer, sometimes you have to take one for the team.

We are all still cleaning up and digging out from under tree debris. And we lost power again yesterday in another storm so the scary season-o-storms ain't over yet. But, so far (knock wood) that twister with our name on it hasn't found us yet!

Note: a special thanks to the crews from WE energies and also all the tree removal crews. They all worked tirelessly around the clock to get our power restored and our homes free of killer trees. If I could, I'd buy every single one of them a drink!