Wrapped up a like a........
I want to know how many people get this particular lyric wrong. In Blinded By The Light by Manfred Mann's Earth Band after "Blinded by the light..." what do you/did you think the next line is/was?
Friday, June 29, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Diving for Dollars
I haven't felt like writing lately. I didn't really have anything to say and the things I thought about saying I really didn't want anyone reading so this blog has been dormant. That is until today. My father called me a couple of days ago and informed me that my sister is trying to raise funds to get herself to the National Fencing Tournament in Miami at the end of June and would I help. I said sure but she would need to ask me and if he wanted me to solicit the help of friends he better have her write a letter. Who can resist handwritten childlike scribble asking for money? He had her sit down to write the letter and this morning when I got to the office the following was waiting for me:
Hi,
My name is MD and I am raising money to go to the United States national fencing tournament in Miami. I am 9 years old but have qualified to fence in the Y10 epee category because of my point scores in regional youth tournament so I will be fencing against twenty-seven other girls aged 9 to 11 from all across the country.
Thank You for your Help! (emphais on help hers not mine)
MD
I guess she threw that whole I am 9 but competing against older girls because I am so fantastic line because she knows people want to back a winner. I'm glad these girls are aged, it may work in her favor.
The whole experience got me thinking to when I was her age and decided I wanted to raise some money of my own. Mind you my efforts were not for some lofty goal like winning a National tournament. I wanted candy from 7-Eleven and knew the only way I was getting it was paying for it myself. I looked around our apartment and tried to think of what in the world I could sell and get me some candy. My mother's clothes? Probably not a good idea. The dog? Again not such a good idea. Then a light bulb lit up above my big mushroom haired head and I had the best idea. I would paint the oyster shells that made up our patio floor. Who wouldn't want a painted oyster shell?! I set about water coloring the shells one by one. At first I tried doing flowers or something fancy but it was taking too long so I moved on to more abstract form. Stripes I told myself was the ticket.
Once the shells were painted it was time to hit the road and peddle my wares. Without the benefit of a fancy display case and wanting to give my customers the benefit of choosing the painted shell that best suited their personal taste, I cleared off my mother's rolling butler cart. The fanciest shells went on the top shelf while lesser, smudgy shells were relegated to the bottom to be used as replacements when the cream of the crop ran dry. I knocked on every first story door in the complex. I can't remember the response I elicited but I do know it felt good to make my own money. Which I promptly blew on pixie sticks and giant Sweet Tarts at the 7-Eleven.
I haven't felt like writing lately. I didn't really have anything to say and the things I thought about saying I really didn't want anyone reading so this blog has been dormant. That is until today. My father called me a couple of days ago and informed me that my sister is trying to raise funds to get herself to the National Fencing Tournament in Miami at the end of June and would I help. I said sure but she would need to ask me and if he wanted me to solicit the help of friends he better have her write a letter. Who can resist handwritten childlike scribble asking for money? He had her sit down to write the letter and this morning when I got to the office the following was waiting for me:
Hi,
My name is MD and I am raising money to go to the United States national fencing tournament in Miami. I am 9 years old but have qualified to fence in the Y10 epee category because of my point scores in regional youth tournament so I will be fencing against twenty-seven other girls aged 9 to 11 from all across the country.
Thank You for your Help! (emphais on help hers not mine)
MD
I guess she threw that whole I am 9 but competing against older girls because I am so fantastic line because she knows people want to back a winner. I'm glad these girls are aged, it may work in her favor.
The whole experience got me thinking to when I was her age and decided I wanted to raise some money of my own. Mind you my efforts were not for some lofty goal like winning a National tournament. I wanted candy from 7-Eleven and knew the only way I was getting it was paying for it myself. I looked around our apartment and tried to think of what in the world I could sell and get me some candy. My mother's clothes? Probably not a good idea. The dog? Again not such a good idea. Then a light bulb lit up above my big mushroom haired head and I had the best idea. I would paint the oyster shells that made up our patio floor. Who wouldn't want a painted oyster shell?! I set about water coloring the shells one by one. At first I tried doing flowers or something fancy but it was taking too long so I moved on to more abstract form. Stripes I told myself was the ticket.
Once the shells were painted it was time to hit the road and peddle my wares. Without the benefit of a fancy display case and wanting to give my customers the benefit of choosing the painted shell that best suited their personal taste, I cleared off my mother's rolling butler cart. The fanciest shells went on the top shelf while lesser, smudgy shells were relegated to the bottom to be used as replacements when the cream of the crop ran dry. I knocked on every first story door in the complex. I can't remember the response I elicited but I do know it felt good to make my own money. Which I promptly blew on pixie sticks and giant Sweet Tarts at the 7-Eleven.
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