Somebody's Watching...

Check out these pictures! They were taken in 1948. The boys in the picture were 18 years old and just graduated from High School. I’m humored by the boys in these photos, both by their youthful exuberance and their charm. (Ignore the fact that one looks like Jake Gyllenhaal – I don’t know who he is - a Gr. Grandfather perhaps?!!)

In the first picture one boy is making an obvious statement by holding up his clear glass soda bottle while his companions hold up dark bottles. In the second picture he’s making an obvious statement by thrusting out his gut and holding the dark glass bottle to his lips. Either picture tells a tale.

These pictures were taken 62 years ago. The boy in question is not even alive any more. He’s left a legacy of children, in-laws, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. Each of which have made their own assumptions about the fluid being consumed when they have seen these photos. Truth is, we’ll never definitely know what those boys were drinking and it doesn’t matter. But the suppositions will never die.

There’s an old 80’s song, recently been made popular by Geico Insurance, which contains the line, “I’ve got the feeling, somebody’s watching me.” The song creeped me out when it first came out and the big-eyed little stack of money doesn’t lessen that creepy feeling for me.

Awhile ago I heard Kim Komando (http:// www.komando.com) busting out some rather startling statistics. According to her, 80% of perspective employees check Face Book on every job applicant they receive. Kim went on to say that 1 in 5 teens have texted or emailed some form of nude picture of themselves to others. In addition, 2 in 5 have been involved in some form of explicit or inappropriate texting.

I couldn’t help but contemplate the possibilities those statistics conjure up.

If two 62-year-old photos could stir up assumptions - what on earth will all of those random texts and photos stir up in someone else’s future? There won’t be two old photos in the possession of a handful of people; there will be 100’s of photos for the entire world to see with the mere click of a button.

We live in a world where beauty queens and Olympians are destroyed due to random old photos suddenly surfacing. Yet, still we gleefully post, text, and send away. Even if we’re not being flippant with our images, the possibilities of someone else snagging a picture of you and posting it online are pretty good.

Back in the day there were “mother networks” in every community. They knew whose kids were up to what and they were quick to report to (and support) one another. My mother had such a network. She made George Orwell’s, “1984” prediction of the existence of a “Big Brother” that would watch and record our every move completely conceivable. I swear my mother had spies, she’d know what I’d gotten into before I’d even pulled in the driveway. I learned the best way to avoid the stress was to avoid the inappropriate behavior, because she’d hear about it. However, in my wildest dreams, I never considered that the future “Big Brother” would be a beast we feed and groom ourselves.

Let’s face facts, this technology isn’t going away, those images are out there, never to be retrieved. So, what to do?

IF you don’t want a picture of you posted on the world-wide-web engaged in some questionable activity, then avoid the activity.

IF you don’t want your future boss to know about inappropriate antics you pull in your leisure time, then consider changing how you spend your time.

The pictures will be posted - you’re not magical enough to avoid that.

The only thing you can control is what you choose to do, where you choose to go, and how you choose to be seen.

“I’ve got this feeling…somebody’s watching…” You!

Out Standing in the Field

It's no secret I love random!

I drove past this field above Swan Valley, Idaho and just had to stop to take a picture. There are no words of explanation really. Just a table, chair, and laundry basket in the middle of nowhere. Now there may be a thousand possibilities for why this is out standing in the field. And believe me, I'd love to hear your ideas, but in the end we'll never really know for sure. It makes me giggle, actually. I can't help but wonder if there's a camera nearby or some kids watching while hiding in the underbrush.

It reminds me of an evening I was driving through Bone, Idaho. I saw a wallet lying in the road with some obvious cash sticking out. I was just about to stop and retrieve it when the setting sun illuminated the fishing line strategically attached to the wallet. My eyes darted along the line only to see two guys plopped in old metal chairs leaning up against the wall of a hole-in-the-wall store (fishing pole in hand) just waiting to tug that line. The joy on their faces was unmistakable.
Life is such a delight! It never ceases to amaze me how creative some people get in living out their humor. A table in a freshly plowed field. A wallet tied to a string. A street sign for a road named "Why Worry Lane" where very few people will ever pass. (Back roads above Palisades, Idaho)

How can you not chuckle to yourself? It just makes the day a little brighter. So to all those randomly humorous people out there who will never know me by name - Thanks for making my day!

Thirty Years!!!

They say time flies when you're having fun.

Perhaps that's why the last thirty years have flown by!

I've been holding hands with the same guy for thirty years.

Thirty years ago today I married my best friend. We were oh so young, and quite the doe-eyed optimists. We didn't know all that life had in store for us but we were absolutely sure we wanted to face it all together.

If someone had sat us down that morning and told us every joy and sorrow and trial and triumph we were going to face together I would have never believed it.

Life is certainly not dull.

Yet, today, I am still married to my best friend. I recognize this is an incredible blessing and gift. We still like each other's company best. We are still absolutely sure we want to face life together. How cool is that?

I am pleased to report that there has never been a day in the past 10,950 that have not included a shared laugh and our sharing the words, "I love you." I still get a kick out of the fact we have kissed over every state line we have crossed.

I absolutely love what we have created together. Our growing family is such a delight for us. They share our passions for God, nature, laughter, and each other's company.

Yep, it's a good life. I'm a happy wife. And I can't wait for the next thirty years.

Going…Going…Gone!

I passed this random tree on a back road in Utah last month. There’s no homes for miles, but for some reason numerous people decided to toss their shoes into this tree. The tree and the shoes captivated me. Why? When? Did they do it all at the same time, or did one person start it and then others followed? Did they even really know each other? Did they all go away bare foot? Are they still? Have others driven by, pulled over, and thrown their own shoes into the mix? I’ll never know, and that’s part of the allure. It’s a mystery and I love mystery.

However, there are those who don’t like mystery. In deed, some are driven crazy by it. As a result, people have suggested I can’t simply disappear off Face Book, as it would be a mystery and thus lead to unending speculation.

It’s true I am leaving Face Book. Let me explain.

There is an ancient Arabic proverb, which states, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” I could spend all day debating that little nugget of wisdom. However, there’s really only one reason I bring it up and that is to suggest that in the Face Book world there may be a place for a new proverb.

‘The friend of my friend may be my enemy!’

In a world where employers are checking out employees on Face Book you simply can’t be too careful. My profession frequently takes me into the presence of minors.

Whether mainstream or at-risk, students deserve safety and protection. As a result, running background checks on me (the resident storytelling teaching artist) are a pretty common part of the hiring package.

I can’t control, nor am I accountable, (nor do I want to be) for the actions of my friends or their friends. Yet, any inappropriate actions of any of my friends or their friends etc. may be linked back to me and consequently affects my reputation and my ability to be hired. When it comes to the safety and protection of minors you can never be too careful.

I’ve struggled with how to handle this. I like being in contact with my friends! However, I need a degree of separation when it comes to my online presence. Thus, I am leaving Face Book.

You can still keep in contact with me, and I hope you do, by following and commenting on this blog. Sign up for the RSS feed or email notification. I don’t know how consistent I’ll be, but I promise to give it a good try. Any time you post a message to me here, I will receive it.

However, if you’re under the age of 18 I won’t respond back. It saddens me to take such a drastic measure, but I am protecting us both. After all, isn’t that what good friends do?

Be safe, be well, and check in from time to time!

Teresa Clark

New Trick for an Old Dog

They say you can’t teach on old dog new tricks. So explain this.

I hate tomatoes – fresh ones anyway. I love sun-dried tomatoes. I love stewed tomatoes – especially in soup. Ketchup is my friend. Salsa is awesome. However, fresh, raw, sliced tomatoes trigger my gag reflex. They always have. Because of this I have sworn off such offerings for nigh on 50 years. I've just slipped the nasty things off to the side.

Until….

I started making fresh salsa about a year ago. It’s actually more like pico de gallo (or ‘teresa de gallo’ as my daughter’s call it). But I’ve played around with ingredients and seasonings until I achieved perfection. Turns out the best and freshest version has diced, raw tomatoes in it. Not too hard to accept because the nasty, slimy centers are still removed. It’s not like I started liking tomatoes all of as sudden.

Until….

We went to visit my son and his wife and she served us BLT’s. (Bacon-Lettuce-Tomato Sandwiches.) I had been watching my husband obsess over BLT’s all month. He had made it look so delicious I had told myself I was going to try one next time I was offered one. And suddenly, I was being offered one. So, I ate it – and guess what?

I LOVED IT!!! My husband has made me three more in the past two weeks. Isn’t that laugh-out-loud funny?

So yes, you can teach an old-dog new tricks! You can make a new discovery every day. You can face your fears a little bit at a time until you master them. You can delight in being wrong!

I’m hungry…I think I’ll go have a BLT.

Wind in My Hair

Life is a roller coaster! Which is good, because I love roller-coasters! Not the new-fangled loop-the-loop numbers mind you. Nope, I love the old-school, rickety, wooden ones. I love the click-click-clack-click sound they make as you are being hauled to the top. I love the wind as it zips through my hair and the stomach lurching drop of that first descent. I love the wobble at the curves. I remember once I went to King's Dominion in Virginia with some friends. They've got some awesome wooden roller-coasters we rode over and over and over again. That night, while I lay in bed with my eyes closed, I re-lived every screaming twist and turn. I'm pretty sure I fell asleep with a smile on my face and the feel of the wind in my hair.

So yeah...life is a roller coaster. The past few months have certainly been illustrative of that. We've had all sorts of multi-generational major surgeries in our family that have forced us to face fear in the face and let go and trust God. We've lost my husband's feisty, life-loving, big-hearted, incredibly supportive mother. We've moved a daughter into her college dorm, traveled every other week since January, and moved furniture (and 2 pianos) all over the West. And I finished out my first semester as a full-time college student - with straight A's.

I'm definitely feeling the wind in my hair!

I confess it's gotten to be a bit taxing. Okay, let's just say I fully embraced "whoa is me" for a minute or two. It's been hard. I allowed myself to feel bone tired and soul-weary. I keep saying I'm looking forward to "normal." But every time I do, there's this little voice in my head that whispers, "This is normal." So, if this is "normal" then I better sit back and enjoy the ride! Because, I'm just going to keep on riding it over and over again.

So, I've got a few goals I wanted to throw out to the world. I figure if I scream it

from the top of the ride I'll hear it screaming back at me in the whistling wind of my next descent.

I am going to appreciate the click-click-clack sound of change. I am going to

thrill with the view from the top and embrace the stomach dropping thrills of the descent. I am going to scream - not with fear - but with the pure exhilaration of life. I am going to run to the front of the line to keep on riding the ride. And when I close my eyes at night and re-live every twist and turn I am going to fall asleep with a smile on my face as I remember the feel of the wind in my hair.