johnvano.com

Where I Was

As you've no doubt heard, today is the 10th anniversary of Princess Diana's death. For whatever reason, the event of her death has become one of those lasting cultural memories, that I believe are unique to our generation. Did people prior to the Age of Camelot ever say, "I remember where I was when I heard _____" ?

This got me thinking of other "Remember where I was-es" ...

   

08.16.77--Elvis Presley dies of heart attack, Memphis. I must have learned about his death the day after it happened. I was standing in line in our school cafeteria, waiting to have my school picture taken. Two kids behind me were talking about the "Death of the King." I was surprised to learn that Elvis had been alive up to then. I thought he was already dead. I was 8.
06.11.79--John Wayne dies of stomach cancer. I learned of the Duke's death on the evening news and I was struck and numb. I went to my room to write down his death date so that I'd never forget the day. I was 10.
12.08.80--John Lennon is shot dead, New York, NY. Two kids sitting across from me in art class were wondering how they could go on after the death of John Lennon. I wasn't even sure who he was. I was 11.
12.16.80--Colonel Harlan Sanders dies of leukemia, Kentucky. I was sitting in school when an announcement came over the P.A. system. We were informed of the death of Colonel Sanders of Kentucky Fried Chicken. I don't know why... but I thought it was very appropriate that this information be transmitted to me as soon as possible. I grieved.

   

03.30.81--President Ronald Reagan is shot, Washington, D.C. My mother told me when I came home from school. I was sitting on a barstool in our kitchen and I think she would have been leaning against the counter. Afterward, I sat there and watched the replays on the TV in the kitchen. It was a black and white. This was the same place she told me about sex, and probably the same year. I was 11.
01.28.86--The Space Shuttle Challenger explodes after take-off, Florida airspace. It was my junior year in high school. I was standing, waiting for lunch, as the news spread through the lunch line. I was 16.
01.17.91--Operation Desert Storm is launched, Iraq. We were in the midst of Operation Desert Shield and doing a good work to protect the people of Kuwait. When it was announced that President Bush was going to announce a formal war, the drama team I managed and directed in college asked me for permission to be excused from rehearsal for 30 minutes to watch the announcement on television. I was filled with so much rage that an actual war would take place in my lifetime when I was of fighting age, that I refused their request. They went out and watched anyway (and who blames them). They came back for rehearsal, and I treated them like crap the rest of the evening. What was I thinking? It's one of my greatest regrets. I was 20.
06.17.94--O.J. Simpson involved in a low-speed police chase after failing to turn himself into authorities for the suspicion of murder, Los Angeles. I saw the story break on TV that evening and watched with great interest. Then I left for work (I had a job working the night shift at a radio station) and watched the entire drama unfold on my little Sony Watchman. I was 25.
10.03.95--O.J. Simpson acquitted for the murders of Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Goldman, Los Angeles. Our stingy boss let everyone come upstairs to watch the live verdict on TV. We had about a 10 minute break to watch and discuss. Our disgust/relief with the verdict was split along racial lines. This was in Syracuse, NY. I was 26.

   

07.15.97--Gianni Versace dies from assassin's bullet, Miami Beach, Florida. I don't remember exactly when I heard he had died. I had never heard of him before his death, only of his company. What I remember is the hunt for his killer, Andrew Cunanan. I lived in Fort Lauderdale at the time and the manhunt was right within my region. He could have been on the loose anywhere, but they finally found him in a houseboat not far from the murder scene. I was 28.
08.31.97--Princess Diana dies in car wreck, Paris. I was on our church's annual singles retreat in Marathon Key, Florida. I learned of her crash when I went to bed in my room that night. I watched the continuing coverage, but finally went to sleep. In the morning, we all talked about her now confirmed death. I asked Paula out on our first date at the conclusion of this weekend. Did Diana's death bring us together? Was it her final act? No... I was still 28.
07.16.99--John F. Kennedy, Jr. dies in small aircraft fatality, Massachusetts. We were living in our shoe box apartment in Fort Lauderdale with our newborn, Madison. It was a Saturday, I believe. And we watched the continuing coverage on TV. I was 30.
09.11.01--New York's Twin Towers, the U.S. Pentagon in D.C., and an aircraft in transit to the White House crash in related acts of terror. I was in the conference room at work during a staff meeting. The girl watching the phones popped her head in to the room to announce that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center in New York. Our boss, seemingly perturbed, said thanks and dismissed her. Then she came back and announced another plane had crashed. He tried to continue with the meeting, but he was faced with a defection. Soon a TV was carted into the room and we all sat in horror. The entire day was a wash, but our boss pretty much made us stay for almost all of it. I was 32.

I'm sure I'll be kicking myself later, remembering all the others I couldn't think of now...

Bear is Lost

It's not easy to see your child go through loss... and to deal with the absence of a friend they have had for as long as they can remember. That is what we're going through now with the loss of Bear. He has accompanied us on many a family outing, but this Sunday, he failed to come back. After enjoying his own "big kid's chair," as he called it, alongside Emma at the Buford location of the Atlanta Bread Company, Bear failed to get up and follow us to the car. No one thought about him until that night when it was time for bed. As of this writing, he has not yet found his way home and all efforts to locate him have been fruitless.

We have lost many a special friend in our 8-plus years of parenting. Madison lost Moochie monkey at a bar and grill in downtown Boston when she was under 2 (he was replaced by a new Moochie who still lives with us). Cooper lost his Hilton monkey at Stonecrest Mall in Lithonia when he was under 2 (he was replaced by a new, bigger Hilton who is Cooper's very best friend to this day). Marshall still has Dusty dog, and Halle still has both Pink Puppy (her first favorite) and Blue Puppy.

But poor, sweet Emma has lost Bear when she's old enough to really know the difference. My powers are gone now--no longer can I make "Bear" magically appear on her pillow and end her misery. In fact, she has six other bears that look exactly as this one (bought in our efforts to wean her from the original bear she sucked on each night), but she has no interest in any of them. "They don't smell like Bear," she tells me, or "They have a different colored ribbon," or "Bear only had one eyelash." There is truly no fooling her.

It breaks my heart. I love to see her cuddle up with that thing every night, to see her lug it out of bed when she's just waking up, the sight of her and Bear watching cartoons on the couch, and Bear's constant presence with us on road trips. From now on that scene will exist only in my mind's eye.

This weekend we'll give her the chance to buy a new friend, but it sure won't be the same.

I Don't Know, She Still Sounds Vapid to Me...

Miss Teen South Carolina has been ridiculed lately for her butchering of this answer (8/27 Miss Teen USA Pageant) about the "geography malaise" in our country...

Q: Recent polls have shown a fifth of Americans can't locate the U.S. on a world map. Why do you think this is?

Yesterday the Today show gave her an opportunity for a retake:

"Personally, my friends and I, we know exactly where the United States is on a map. I don't know anyone else who doesn't. If the statistics are correct, I believe there should be more emphasis on geography in our education so people will learn how to read maps better."

Pure genius! Just check off every problem as a quick-fix for our educational system... Isn't this what everyone says? She had time for a reasoned, inspired response... and this is what she gives us? I am thankful that this contest only determines pretty spokespeople with pet causes, and not world leaders. Plus, she didn't answer the question--they asked her why students couldn't locate the U.S. on a map... not what to do about it.

Recent Reads: Biography

It's been a very long time since I've managed to get a book review up on the site. Following is my effort to begin logging reviews of each of my books from 2007. I figured I'd handle this by category.

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Crashing Through by Robert Kurson--Crashing Through is the story of Mike May, who became blind at age 3 through a chemical accident. May soared to great heights as a blind man, continually "crashing through" to accomplish anything he set out to do. Attend public school in the 1950's before special needs integration? Check. Play top-notch soccer with sighted players? Check. Date beautiful women? Check. Break downhill skiing records? Check. Crash the winter Olympics? Check. Become a successful entrepeneur? Check. May pushed the extremes of everything he did. Then in 1999 he was told that his vision could possibly be restored. This was no easy decision, pursuing sight in and of itself was a curiosity, sure, but not anything he craved. He labored over his decision, and finally elected to try the surgery because it was the most consistent thing he could do as one who always pursued every challenge before him. Kurson's description of how May's sight was restored is intoxicating to read, and he doesn't make the science of it overwhelming. The author writes beautifully of May's wonder at all that his eyes revealed during the first months of sight. May's mind didn't remember seeing, so everything he took in at age 46 was new. Staring at a painting, he had to be told what was real and what wasn't. Skiing as a sighted person, he crashed horribly. His sight never did come into the fullness of a lifelong sighted person, and this was frustrating to May. In the end, he taught himself to see by using the same skills he used to navigate the world as a blind man. It is mesmerizing to read these details and to journey through his frustrations and his innovations (his sight restoration is unique so his approach to using his eyes is unprecedented). Crashing Through is a well-told book, that inspires on nearly every page. Grade: A

Fat Girl by Judith Moore--Moore, a known food writer struggled all of her life with her weight and self-image. This memoir opens with the warning that you're not about to read a happy book, with heartwarming lessons and triumphs. Actually, it took quite a while for the book to connect with this reader, as Moore drudges through her appetites and her struggles. She writes vividly of the food she likes, and the diets that she's lived, and is constantly living. Food has become tied to every significant memory of her life--from rejection to joy to family. Some foods she can no longer eat because they propel her so far into her painful past. Her story gains momentum when she takes us back to the beginning and her scarred childhood. Raised by a mother who'd flit off and leave her with her angry grandmother or her pleasantly gay uncle, Judith didn't know her father until she was a mother herself. Her life was one episode of abuse after another, the verbal cruelty a living horror--from her mother, her grandmother, and her classmates alike. She remembers with clarity the handful of people who were truly kind to her throughout these years, and remembers too, the guilty feelings she had about the bad things she would do. Fat Girl is the story of a woman with ...

Now Just 999 Things to Do Before I Die...

I just watched my first horse race. I guess it was about time, now that I’ve read five horse racing novels. Since I first started reading Dick Francis in 2005, he’s made horse racing seem interesting through the eyes of his gentleman detectives.

I’ve never been interested in the sport. There are no horse owners in my social circle, and I’m not a gambler. But when I got up from my nap this afternoon, I switched on the TV and flipped around, finally landing on a race in its infancy. It was fairly exciting, particularly as horse number 2 seemed to have a solid lead until pesky horse number 3 caught up. There was some give and take and 3 seemed to have it won until another numbered horse galloped beside 3 and seemed about to wrest the lead from him. Then 3 hit another gear and slipped ahead for good. Who knows what happened to number 2—he was a black horse lost in a blur of brown horses at the end. Sad, really, he had such a future.

The best thing is, the whole race took about 90 seconds—and I wasn’t even around for the full time. This would seem to be the perfect sport for someone with a busy lifestyle like mine—with work, family, and a novel leaking out of me one page at a time. I have fallen considerably off my sports-watching pace of 1984-86, and even 1991-98, so horse racing just may be the answer. Trouble is, I don’t know when I’m going to wake up from a nap again.

Nothing's So Sweet as Sweetwater Creek

There's a new sheriff in town! In my continuing quest to visit all of Georgia's 46 state parks, I discovered a new number one--Sweetwater Creek in Lithia Springs (just past Six Flags Over Georgia). Madison, Marshall, Emma, and Halle spent the day with me there on Sunday... and this is what we discovered:

Although it was 100 degrees outside (that's why Paula and Cooper stayed home), we really didn't notice it much until after the first 90 minutes or so. It was only after we had run out of water that we became tired and a little bit dehydrated.

At this point I needed to make a critical decision about whether to press forward toward "the falls" or turn and go back. When we started out I had only glanced at the map--loop trails at state parks usually take just an hour or so to hike--but when we reached "the ruins" (an old Civil War-era factory), I realized we were barely a quarter of the way down the loop. Still, we had stopped, posed for photos, and danced along the rocks a lot, surely we could make better time if we "pushed it." But the trail had slowly changed from a wide, flat path to one of narrow passes, steep climbs, and tall stairways.

<Pictured at left is the best shot I could get of the copperhead snake we passed while hiking. He was coiled up about 3 feet from where we walked, in a 2-foot hole. It had seemed like a great place for a snake, so I peeked into the hole and was shocked to see him there. I've never been that exposed to one before--and with four young children it made me nervous. Although I did hang out and take surreptious photos of it, craning over the hole while the kids were a few feet away. Finally, three yahoos came walking by with orange vests and I pointed the snake out to them. With my children a safe distance away, they poked it awake with a stick and confirmed, "It's alive! Do you want to see it?" Then they died... no, not really, but they were pretty stupid.>

You May Have Created a Monster

Now that I've won a writing contest (albeit from just a local media company), I quickly entered another. This one was the "AT&T Make Your Pitch" contest... the winner will get the chance to throw out the first pitch at an upcoming Braves' game. While others are writing about their pitching prowess, or their dreams, or appreciation of baseball, I sent in this copy:

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My major league pitching experience consists of throwing heat in the pivotal playoff games of my imagination. I feel confident that when Bobby Cox hands me the ball to take the mound and represent the millions of other never-made-it baseball greats, I will deliver the ceremonial first pitch in one hop or less. Until then, I am waiting for my call-up on my backyard wiffleball mound.

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But before I submitted my entry, I caught this disclaimer: "You are not required to make a pitch--these are for humor purposes and do not affect the chances of winning." Oh well, I had fun anyway. Maybe they'll post my pitch--that would be a win in a sense.

** And if you're wondering, I'm now on page 111 of my first novel. I rewrote the first 95 pages, but am now kicking butt and taking names as I write from page 96 to 400. See you at the finish line.

I Guess I Am Much Cooler Online...

Thanks to everyone who voted for me! Kicks 101.5 called me last night to say: "Hi John, this is Janet calling from Kicks' radio station... you are in fact OUR GRAND PRIZE WINNER! Thanks so much for playing along... you've won a pair of tickets (to Brad Paisley) and the meet and greet..."

So apparently (and with apologies to Sally Field) you like the fake me! You really, really like the fake me... !

After the concert I'm sure I'll do a post and include the pics of me signing a six-figure songwriting contract with Brad before the concert on September 20... Then they'll be the photos of Brad, Kimberly Williams-Paisley, Paula, and me in the limo on our way out to dinner after the show... and by the time I post photos of yet another VandenOever-Paisley vacation, you'll be so sorry you ever voted for me...

Meet Mr. Aloha! (I'm a Fake-Profile Finalist)

As a creative way to promote Brad Paisley's summer concert tour, my favorite country music station announced a contest this week. Brad's latest hit single is called "Online" and it humorously spoofs the tendency for some to enhance their attributes through not-so-accurate online profiles. The station challenged its listeners to come up with the most outrageous fake profile (about 50 words). The top 5 nominees would receive a pair of tickets to the September 20 Brad Paisley-Taylor Swift concert in Atlanta. The finalist receives a pair of backstage passes.

This seemed right up my alley as imagine myself a writer (and I am hard at work on my first novel). Also, I have had some fun creating fake e-mail addresses and communicating with select friends through these aliases. So I submitted a short piece--and I've won tickets to the concert! If my entry, "Mr. Aloha," wins--Paula and I will get to meet Mr. Paisley. But really, it's an honor just to be nominated.

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This is my submission (entry #4):

Aloha! On break from a wet underwear shoot on Kauai. It’s my vacation from repairing cleft palates in Honduras. My photographer here is super-hot Karena who says I look like a young Erik Estrada. Can’t wait to cool off at my chalet in the Rockies, but still looking for someone special to cuddle with by the fire...

Vote now! (the contest is only open until 2pm on 8/17/07)

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Liner Notes: The "wet underwear" bit came off a little racier (or infantile) than I intended. I originally had it as "very chilly" but thought, is the water chilly off Kauai? I didn't know. I changed it to wet to go with being in the surf, but after I submitted it I realized it sounds provocative. Also, the bit about "a young Erik Estrada" is a line I've made famous among a small circle of my friends--it is a description I have used often for one of my aliases. Vote for your online friend (me) today!

A Rooster in the Suburbs

I'd like to know which one of my neighbors owns the rooster. We live in the suburbs for Pete's Sake. How are those city ordinances? Are roosters okay? What do you have a rooster for anyway? As far as I can tell, he's not your alarm clock because the only time I hear him crow is in the afternoon. Some day I'm going to drive around the cul de sac and find out who you are, you rooster-lover.