The Artist, and a tribute to another.

Until award season, I had never heard of the movie The Artist. Even then, I didn't learn much about it. But after it's recent sweep at the Academy Awards I decided I had to see what all the rave was about. Once I learned it was a silent film which takes place during the 1920's and 30's, I couldn't wait to see it. This is a movie I knew had to be seen in a theater on the big screen. Something about lounging on the couch watching it on the 46" flat screen tv with all kinds of modern technology laying around didn't seem to suit a silent film. Then again, I've never actually seen a silent film. Except for all of the programs I watched with grampa back home. He always had the volume turned all the way down because he was deaf anyway. Those weren't real silent films though. Either way, it wouldn't be the complete experience, and I'm all about the complete experience. 
I searched flixter for all the local theaters to see when the show times were. I couldn't believe it when I didn't find it anywhere. It just won best picture, and it's not in any of the local theaters? It didn't seem to make sense to me. I looked a little further, and I found it. There were still two available show times at a little throwback theater in Livermore called Vine Cinemas. This theater had a terrific old Hollywood feel to it, minus the grunginess of the Nickelodean theater in the Old Port. The room itself was older, with cement floors and round tables at the end of each row where you could order food and a cocktail. It had everything but the clouds of smoke billowing towards the ceilings of the old days. 
The movie began, and it was....quiet. very quiet. you could have heard a pin drop. Or the lady obnoxiously chomping on her popcorn in the row behind me. 
I've always had a soft spot for old cinema, but I was especially taken by this film. I wasn't prepared for the emotions that I felt. The musical scores were a perfect match for the excessive 'mugging' in each scene. I always wondered why silent films seemed so overly dramatized. They had to have some way of conveying their emotions to the viewers, since they didn't have words. Although the music was not being played live by an orchestra in front of us, the experience was entirely authentic and mesmerizing. 
As I sat watching the film, I couldn't help but think of Grampa Manny. We sat together on Christmas morning, watching It's a Wonderful Life, and it's a memory I'll never forget. One of my last with him. He watched intently, and when George and Mary locked eyes from across the room during the high school dance scene. Then he looked over at me and said "You see? Sometimes that's all it takes". I could see he was thoroughly enjoying himself, watching an old black and white film with mild romance. it's my favorite Christmas movie. 
Had I only known about The Artist while I was home for the holidays, I would have sat across from Grampa at the breakfast table and told him to put on his best flannel shirt and winter cap, because I was taking him to see a motion picture. Oxygen tank and all. I would have rented out the entire room for a private viewing if he wanted. It would have been worth every penny. He would have worn his green lined flannel shirt and his navy blue knit cap. my grampa was a creature of habit. Those were his favorites. 
I'm not even sure if my grampa ever went to the movies. He came from very humble beginnings, and he surely never talked about it, and he didn't much care for contemporary programs anyhow. He stuck to the history channel, the weather channel and his favorite....the TV Guide channel. This would have been the only contemporary motion picture, I am confident, he would have thoroughly enjoyed.  He would have sat quietly the entire time, only making remarks when absolutely necessary. He was a man of few words. It was only when he was upset that he would speak often. If he was happy and content, he sat quietly until someone else started a conversation with him. My grampa was a simple man. He didn't have much, and asked for even less. Best of all, he was truly an artist. His beautiful paintings are displayed proudly on the walls of our home. His model ships, that would take him years to finish, are displayed in museums and store fronts. He remembered every last detail. 


I sat with him as much as possible while I was home. I knew it might be our last time together, at least on this earth. A couple weeks later my sister called to tell me grampa wasn't doing well. He hadn't gotten out of bed in days, and was too weak to even speak anymore. We started a video chat on skype, and she brought the laptop in to his bedroom. She put the screen in front of him, so he could see me. He didn't say anything, he just laid there and looked at me. I did my best to just keep smiling at him. Since he was deaf, I took a sharpie and a post it note and wrote I <3 U on it. I couldn't fit the word Love, but he knew what it meant. I held it up to the camera, and he read it. A moment later, he whispered, "I love you too". Then he raised his arm sideways, too weak to even turn his hand around.....and he blew me a kiss. I tried to hide the tears streaming down my face, just as they are now, but he didn't care. I blew him a kiss back and he wiggled his fingers at me to say 'see you later'. 
The next morning my grampa passed away. He was warm and asleep in his bed. He would have been 91 this May. 

Christmas 2011. He always was a ham.

Watching It's a Wonderful Life together on Christmas morning.

My last interaction with my grampa. 

I wish I looked better. I was terribly sick, but he didn't care. There he is, laying in bed, in the lower left hand corner of each frame. Looking back at me and showing his love for me....

even in the silence. 

Dedicated to:

Manuel Costa

1921-2012

Lesson(s) in patience

This past weekend I was on a business trip to Phoenix. Although the weekend was marked by several "seinfeld" moments, the most classic was my experience at the gate, waiting to board my flight back to Oakland. 
It was a Sunday night, and I knew the airport would be busy with end of weekend flyers. I was concerned about the amount of time available between leaving the conference and arriving at the terminal, so I decided to upgrade to Business Select. worth every penny...well, usually.
I checked in at the counter, received my boarding pass (which came with a free cocktail during my flight....thank goodness) and proceeded to 'fly by security'. The line for regular security was enormous, so getting to go straight to the beginning of the line was absolutely incredible. I'll be doing this every time I fly. 
I arrived at the gate with time to spare, grabbed a bite to eat and relaxed for a few minutes before I saw people lining up to board. With A3 as my boarding spot, I was to be only the 3rd person to board the plane. Well that's after the pre-boarders, but that's never more than 4 or 5 people and takes about 5-7 minutes to complete. I threw my brief case over my shoulder and glanced out the window at the setting Arizona sun. We were scheduled to depart right as the sun was setting...it was going to be absolutely beautiful. 
Then it began....
2 planes came in to side by side gates at the same time. Both flights just happened to have 4 little old ladies in wheel chairs exiting....at the same time. The southwest crew member announced over the intercom, and extremely loudly, for wheel chairs and assistance to gate C7 asap. They proceeded to line the, eight, little old ladies front to back as they waited for airport crew to push them to baggage claim. They might as well have pulled up a table and started a game of canasta. As the minutes passed, and no personnel came for assistance, it was clear that passengers ready to board were getting antsy. It was crowded, and we couldn't start even the pre-boarding process until the, eight, little old ladies were whisked away. Finally .............


{side note: an earth quake just hit while I was writing this! That's my second one since moving here...not all that impressive..and I hope they stay that way}


Ok, back to the regular programming. Where was I? Oh yes,  pre-boarding. 5 more minutes until I would be sliding into my aisle seat, resting my head back, while everyone else was still waiting in line for their turn to board. They called for pre-boarders and here came a basketball team. 15 total athletes and chaperones....all in wheel chairs. Not only were they in wheel chairs, but they all were pushing a 2nd wheel chair in front of them which held their bags. Thirty wheel chairs. thirty. On a normal flight, 4 or 5 wheelchairs would have been abnormal. But....thirty? Really? My shoulder was hurting from carrying my bag, my feet were incredibly sore and I was so exhausted. This process was excruciatingly long...just taking forever. 
Looking back I felt like George Costanza. I imagine him playing this through in his head..{what if I walked over to the group, showed them my prominent A3 spot in line and smiled at them. "Hi there (big smile, squinty eyes). I couldn't help but notice how big of a group you have here, and it really is a wonderful thing you're doing, getting all of them together on a basketball team and such. That must really lift their spirits. You see, I paid extra to be seated rather quickly on this flight, and I didn't think you'd mind if I just slid on by to take my seat before you begin boarding your team. I promise, you won't even notice I'm there. Do you think we could arrange this?} When the airport personnel nicely asked him to get back in line, he'd throw his hands up in the air and with his screechy George Costanza voice yell "But I paid extra for Business Select!! I want a refund!"


But in all reality, my feet were killing me, my shoulder was starting to burn (why hadn't I put my bag down by now?) and I was quickly getting frustrated. I took a deep sigh and glanced over at the team of paraplegic basketball players.....They were all laughing and talking about how great the game had been, even though they only came in 4th place.....
Seriously? These kids can't even stand up on their own, and I'm complaining in my head about how bad my feet are hurting from standing for so long? God really does have a sense of humor sometimes. He's been teaching me lessons in patience frequently lately. This is just one of the many examples of Him gently nudging me, encouraging me to be a bit more gracious and thankful than I once was. 
And I did get to watch the beautiful Arizona sunset, and it was just as magnificent through the windows in the airport. 
We really do serve a merciful and gracious God. 

my new whip

It's official. This week I confirmed my place as resident in the Golden State of California. I've wrestled with this for a while now. When I first moved out here, my plan was to spend my first full day becoming a resident here and kissing New England goodbye for the foreseeable future. I was spreading my wings, and not even thinking about looking back. 

or so I thought. 

 Although Cali had never been on my radar, I was anxiously thinking about a warmer climate to venture off to. And after spending 9 days here last July (which by the way is probably the coldest time of year in San Francisco....strange, I know), I couldn't wait to return. I knew this was the place I wanted to get lost in, and discover all kinds of great things about myself that I never had before. It was here I would push myself to try anything new that came my way. I was going to do it all folks. And even live to tell about it. I didn't even think about the fact that I was literally moving from coast to coast (Hampton, NH to San Francisco Bay area), I just couldn't wait to get here and let the good times begin.  

In the beginning, I was too busy being excited and taking it all in to realize it. I had finally done it, finally taken the leap and moved somewhere I said I was going to move to. No where in my brain did I ever think that I...Rachel Starr Davis.. would ever even imagine of being... homesick. No way. I was the adventurer, the conqueror of all my fears, the Carpe Diem, live life to the fullest and try everything possible that I never experienced growing up in rural Maine, girl, who wouldn't look back. yeah right.

Sure, this really is how it was for a month or so. Then my favorite season was here, but not really here in California. Fall has always been my favorite time of year, and there's hardly a more beautiful time in New England than Autumn. I was having a more difficult time than I'd imagined making new friends and I had the outrageous idea of watching 'When Harry met Sally'.... all alone. if you haven't seen it yet, watch it. Needless to say, it made me starving for the East Coast and my community of family and friends back there. 
Slowly I started to wonder if I had made the right decision, moving so far away from everything that was familiar to me, and the homesickness became overwhelming. My little sister, Michelle, came to visit me for Thanksgiving/my early birthday, which brightened my spirit while she was here, but drove home the fact that I missed my people terribly.  
Between Thanksgiving and Christmas I wasn't sure if I wanted to stay for the long haul anymore, if I'm being completely honest. I knew I would go home for the holidays, with no new friends to speak of, and not want to return again, leaving my family and friends 3500 miles away. 
So, as my registration and inspection became due in November, I "forgot" all about it. I didn't want to go through the process of changing residency, getting new license plates and drivers license, if I wasn't sure I wanted to be here..you know, longer than a few months. Besides I've gone over a year past registration before....and never got a ticket. i probably just jinxed myself. 
God has a sense of humor sometimes, and He always has us right where He wants us. I started getting involved at my new home church, Cornerstone Fellowship, and just 6 days before I made the trip back to New England for the holidays, I met my dear friend Marina and her husband David. We instantly became bosom buddies, and it was exactly what I needed. Sometimes I wonder how we can have connections with perfect strangers, and a wise woman of God once answered that question. You see, God is preparing our hearts for each other, even before we've ever met. He knows our wants and needs, and he matches us with exactly the right people, at exactly the right time. pretty amazing huh? 
Anyway this was just the first of many wonderful and rich friendships that I have been blessed with, and although I cherished every moment of being home for the holidays, I was excited to return to my new home in California. As you can see from previous posts, my circle of friends has multiplied! I know this is where I'm supposed to be now and I decided to plant my feet firmly here. As hard as it was to let go of being a resident of the Live Free or Die state...we really do have the best state motto...I have fully embraced the Golden State and have finally made it official.
When I was at the DMV getting my new plates, the woman explained to me that I had to forfeit my license plates and punch a hole in my NH drivers license. I told her in New Hampshire we only have to have a plate on the back, so I only had one to surrender. it's only a little white lie. 

My souvenir.

And here it is

I think the new flair suits my little car.

I actually didn't even recognize my car after. I was so used to scanning the lots for my obvious New Hampshire plates that I walked right past my car after leaving the grocery store. i had a good laugh when I turned around and realized what I'd done. 

Episode 3: The one with the big balls

Bowling was one of our pass times growing up in Parsonsfield, ME. It was about the only activity there was to do, except for tree climbing, ice skating and water hole swimming. We had birthday parties, end of school year parties and Thursday night bowling leagues there. My school even had bowling league as an optional sport after school. Yup. We sure did like our bowling. 

Oh, and it was candle pin bowling. You know. The small balls you could fit your entire hand around, and skinny bowling pins. And the balls weren't bright neon fun colors either. No. They were brown and red and boring and ugly. You can imagine my envy the first time I experienced Big Ball Bowling...Is that what they call it? The bowling pins looked like the ones we had in our household bowling sets, and the balls were big HUGE and very bright and colorful. And then there was the light show. That's right. Where they had black lights, neon lights and strobe lights creating a party atmosphere with loud contemporary music blasting as you had your bowling extravaganza. They weren't playing a jukebox of 1970's rock'n'roll hits selected by the local blue collar weekly bowlers who were reliving their prime bowling days of their youth. There was no way I could ever go back to my candlepin bowling and actually enjoy myself again. nope...never.

Good thing I moved to an area of California that has not one, but two Big Ball Bowling ally's. And I've found a group of friends who enjoy bowling just as much as I do. Probably because they never had to experience candlepin bowling, but either way. 

Here are some photos from our recent outing to the Big Ball Bowling ally.

Look at all those bright colored Big Balls.

Here's the whole group.

We had a blast. And yes there were current music videos on the screens down the ally's and a cosmic light show. 

Here I am... probably getting ready to bowl another.. zero. That's right, I rock at bowling. 

 

Episode 2: The One With All The Dragons

A thought just occurred to me..I've been in California for 5 months now. That's almost half a year. Soon it will be summertime and then before I know it, a year will have passed since I moved out here. wow, time flies. I've done some pretty cool things since living out here. Like Oktoberfest in San Francisco (that's when I bought the extra large refillable cup, which I refilled at least two three times and purchased a 3 day 2 night package at a resort in Lake Tahoe. That part of the night is a little fuzzy for me, but heck, it should be a fun trip) Wine tasting at least five times in Napa, watched the Blue Angels fly over San Francisco Bay, attended my first ever NFL game at Oakland Stadium where the Patriots kicked their a**'s (wonder if I brought them good luck when the seagull pooped on my head right before the game.....huh. anyways) Oh yeah, went to Immortal Michael Jackson by Cirque du Soleil in a catered box suite...uh-mazing.... 
Now that I look at it all together, I'm having a pretty cool adventure out here. 


This past weekend was completely action packed and full of excitement from beginning to end as well. Friday night I did one of my favorite activities. Ice Skating. And I was with a totally rad group of people my age from the church I've settled into. Yes, we played tag, and yes I took a wicked digger.....three times.

                                                  Here we are. Good looking group huh?


It kind of felt like I was at snow camp again in Rumney, NH. Dang, I really miss that place. Some of us went back to Laura's house (now my house too) to drink Starbucks hot chocolate and watch Horrible Bosses. Still hilariously funny, even on the third viewing.


Saturday was the most exciting day of the weekend. I ventured into the city, taking the BART, which the natives refer to as just BART, not The Bart. oops. Apparently it's obvious I'm not a native. I dragged Alex, another new friend, with me and we checked out the Chinese New Year Parade. Now that was a parade. Wait, let me back up.


We first stopped to have lunch at Lefty O'Douls, home of the original Irish coffee.

Dangerously good.

After warming up a bit (dangerously good Irish coffee will do that to you), we made our way to the parade. This was the most visually appealing parade I have ever been to, hands down. There were costumes and outfits of all colors, traditional Chinese music and dancing, a 4 door Porsche highway patrol car (oh so sexy), dozens of dragons to celebrate the year of the dragon, and explosives...Those Chinese sure do know how to throw a celebration.

That was loud. Wicked.

Beautiful costumes

And how about these dragons?

Whoa....That's a lot of dragons. 

And, My favorite shot of the day

Kind of looks like a Chinese dragon version of the Beatles picture. 

Me, in my awesome front row spot.

Saturday was wrapped up by a 10:45 showing of The Vow (mixed feelings). My friend Michelle came with me. So glad I finally made friends so I didn't have to go alone. Thank goodness. 

Found this in the parking lot after the movie.

Interesting.

It's been run over by a car...

Even though I didn't get to sleep until 2:30am, I got up at 7:15 Sunday morning to go to the first service at church so I could go on a hike after. I've always loved hiking, and this has become my Sunday afternoon routine. Well, on Sunday's when the Patriots aren't playing. Football season is over for now, so there are a lot more Sunday hikes in my future. Every time I go for a hike, I always feel closer to God than any other time. Getting away from the hustle bustle of everyday life and just breathing in all of His creation is truly humbling. Man made things look so small from up there. All that stands out is the canvas of beauty He has given us to walk in every day of our earthly lives. Pretty incredible if you ask me.

This week I hiked Mt. Diablo with my new housemate, Laura. As if my legs weren't sore enough from 2 hours of ice skating on Friday night, I added a 7 mile hike to close out the weekend. 

Here's a look at it.

It was cold and windy, but totally worth it.

Interesting fact about Mt. Diablo: It has the 2nd largest viewshed in the world, only after Mount Kilimanjaro. On a clear day you can see all the way to the Golden Gate Bridge, and the Sierra Nevada's. Pretty neat.

Now that was an epic weekend. No wonder I'm so exhausted today.

Until next time...