Author: Andy Smallman

Get this. Ella is going to Disneyland this week courtesy of the family of one of her friends. Rather than throw a large party locally, her friend’s parents decided to treat two of their daughter’s friends to a trip to Disneyland. It’s incredible, I know. Ella leaves tomorrow and gets back on Thursday.

So anyway, I was helping Ella look for a small suitcase for her trip and came upon a couple of them we’ve had for years, from before we went to France. In fact, they were too small to take to France so we left them stored at home. But that’s not interesting, is it?! What is, though, is that when I pulled them out I discovered that two of them were full of clothes! Clothes from before France!

Treasure!

Now I admit, there was a reason we didn’t take some of these clothes to France but there are some shirts I was thrilled to find and Melinda scored a pair of slippers (and found the dress she wore when we got married – no small thing). But today’s picture isn’t of the good things. It’s of the stack of things we intend to take to the Goodwill.

That’s right. Treasure for someone else!

I’ve been thinking about the concept of perfection. The more I let myself go, the more I come to think that either there is no such thing as perfection or there is nothing but perfection. Let me explain.

On many occasions I’ve told my students that trouble begins when we start comparing ourselves to others. For instance, I gave up trying to learn the guitar when I saw my friend Vince play in college. There was no way I would ever get as good as Vince so why bother, right?

Wrong.

What we need to do is compare ourselves only to ourselves. If instead of comparing my guitar playing to Vince’s I had compared mine to myself, I might not have been disillusioned. I might have 25 years of guitar playing experience by now.

Another way to think about it is like equivalent fractions. You know, 10 over 10 equals 20 over 20 (10/10 = 20/20), right? In the same way, Andy over Andy equals Vince over Vince (Andy/Andy = Vince/Vince).

10/10 = 20/20 = Andy/Andy = Vince/Vince = 1 whole.

Therein lies perfection.

I’m calling today’s post “Ordinary Moments.” See if it makes sense to you.

Today’s photo was taken at Skate King, a roller skating rink in the city of Bellevue, a large suburb of Seattle (and where my family relocated from Omaha in 1974). That’s me with the baseball cap, holding toddler Ella. Melinda and Chloe are skating toward us. I can’t say I remember a lot about this particular day, but looking at my kids sure evokes strong memories. That tie-dye T-shirt of Chloe’s was a huge favorite of hers and I’d bet dollars to doughnuts that Ella is sucking her thumb.

We are the sum of so many things, including ordinary moments like roller skating with one’s family. And really, it’s these ordinary moments that make up the bulk of our lives. Cherish the ordinary.

Doing so makes it extraordinary.

When we got back from our year in France, waiting for us was a CD I ordered of digitized family photos. I uploaded the images and have many times had a blast looking through them (I still need to get them organized).

Today’s image is one of these photos and it really touches me. Here are Chloe and Ella from many years ago, playing in our eating area with their “Groovy Girls.” Both girls loved these dolls but I will forever link them to Chloe, who had several and could play with them for hours.

I hadn’t thought about these dolls for a long time but seeing this picture inspired me to do a quick online search. I discovered that the line is alive and well, complete with its own groovygirls.com domain.

For you parents, what toys did your kids love that they have outgrown? For that matter, what toys did YOU enjoy that you have outgrown? Are you sure??

Yesterday I told you about Melinda’s and my “song.” Today I’m going to tell you a little more about that story.

So about a year after Melinda laid out the rocks in our house (btw, they ended in our bedroom with three rocks saying “I love you” and another saying “Happy Birthday!”), Scott Garred, aka Super XX Man, was scheduled to play at a small venue in Seattle. I had recently contacted Scott through his website in an attempt to get all of his CDs. He was so friendly and responsive to my email messages that I got a little bold.

“Any chance you’d play ‘Collecting Rocks’ in Seattle and dedicate it to my wife and me?”

He did.

Is there a song that you and your partner identify as “yours?” For Melinda and me, we kinda-sorta used to say it was the classic “Blue Moon” since we were married on a blue moon. But it never really stuck.

A few years ago we both found ourselves drawn to a song called “Collecting Rocks” by a somewhat unknown musician who goes by the name Super XX Man. The writer and singer, Scott Garred, tells a lovely little story about his grandparents’ relationship, specifically about them collecting rocks.

On my birthday that year I came home to find that Melinda had gathered a number of decorative rocks, written the song’s refrain on them (one word per rock) and laid them out in our house for me to find. We keep the rocks in a bowl in our bedroom, a tribute to our relationship.

And without a doubt, we know what “our” song is.

When I was a kid I was a huge fan of Captain Kangaroo. Remember his TV show with its cast of characters? Dancing Bear, Mr. Bunny Rabbit, Mr. Green Jeans, among others. This was the end-all of TV shows for me.

For Halloween one year, my mom made Captain Kangaroo character costumes for my two brothers and me. I’m in the center of the photo, outfitted as Mr. Bunny Rabbit. That’s my oldest brother Scott on the right, dressed as the captain. And Steve is on the left, dressed as Dancing Bear. The costumes were so wonderful that we won a contest of some sort at a store called Hinky Dinky (I think).

Part of my costume included real carrots. Although I don’t remember this specifically, the story of me sleeping with the carrots remains family lore. Apparently, unbeknownst to me, my mother would change the carrots when they got too rubbery.

First, today’s picture is of Chloe and is from many, many years ago. She must have been three or four years old and she’d fallen from a swing. She wasn’t really hurt, but she thought she might be so she was crying. She was looking to me for reassurance, which I provided her.

If you look close you can see that Chloe is just starting to smile and that there are a couple of tears on her cheek and another in her eye. I had a camera with me (per usual) and snapped this picture. It’s one of my all-time favorites.

Chloe is almost 20 years-old now, an adult in college. She and I share with each other special stories of being moved by young children. Over the weekend, she sent me this video link. Go take a look (and pardon the fact you have to sit through a 30 second commercial to see a 45 second video).

How cool is it that my adult child shares with me something as sweet as this? 🙂

If you known me well at all, you are aware that I am a huge fan of musician Tom Waits. I’ve told my kids that should I ever die, I would like them to see to it that his song “Take It With Me” is played at any service they might decide to have for me.

I’m thinking of Tom Waits today for two reasons. One, one of Melinda’s and my favorite PSCS alums, Dan Gillmore, came to dinner tonight with his girlfriend, Christine. And two, I referenced Tom in an essay I presented this morning in my ongoing kindness class.

It’s a good essay. You really should go read it.

There she is, Melinda on the roof. We stopped by Costco today and one thing we picked up was this product you sprinkle on the ridges of your roof. Once it rains, the product mixes with the rainwater and washes over your roof, supposedly killing any moss that’s been growing. And since moss has been growing on our roof, and bothering Melinda I should add, we bought some of it.

I took several pictures of Melinda applying the product but settled on using this one. In a couple of others she is walking the ridge line of the roof in a way that turned my knees to jelly.

I didn’t want to do that to you.