A FARKLE a Day. . .
Overheard tonight at band practice:
"Ann, do you farkle?" (spoken by Mark)
"Usually just in the bathroom." (spoken by an embarrassed Ann)
'splanation? No problem.
Farkle is a game that is now available on Facebook. One more die than Yahtzee. Far more addicting.
Melany? Hooked
Mark? Hooked
Me? Shamelessly Hooked.
Turns out. . .it's a real game. I never knew.
Check it out. If you're on Facebook -- give it a try. But I have to warn you. . . you'll be hooked.
Let's see. . .what else? Oh yeah. . .(sigh)
Today's entry can be filed under "Things You're Gonna Blog About"
This morning, the City of Knoxville Special Events Department held their monthly meeting for organizations that are holding events in Downtown Knoxville. I attended two of these meetings last year, in anticipation of the Buddy Walk. This year, I worked it out to only have to attend one. . . and it was today.
The Knoxville Civic Coliseum is an old-ish building. It's great -- we saw the Knoxville Opera Company's production of "Aida" a few years ago. We've also been to concerts there -- and the Knoxville Ice Bears play there.
Today, the City meeting was held in their 3rd floor ballroom, where it is always held. In previous years, I have gotten stuck in the parking garage, or gone the wrong way down a one-way street. But today -- all traffic incidents were inconsequential. In fact, things went swimmingly.
When I got inside the building, things took an interesting turn. You see, the Civic Coliseum has an old-fashioned elevator. The kind like you see on episodes of Will & Grace -- not that I watch Will & Grace. But I have seen the elevator -- metal grates--door that closes vertically, rather than horizontally.
This elevator was no different.
I entered in the lobby, hit the button for the 3rd floor. Then I thought to myself: "Gosh, I really do like this elevator. Such character. It's so Greenwich Village." The metal grates closed, and the exterior door closed vertically. I took in the sights & smells. The old wooden floor -- the creaking of the gears -- it was a feast for the senses.
2nd floor
3rd floor
I arrived at my destination, and the elevator came to a stop.
Nothing happened.
The grate didn't open
The vertically closing doors stayed closed.
The gears stopped making noises.
Nothing.
Trying not to panic, I laughed at how I'd just celebrated the idiosyncrasies of this antique elevator -- and now those idiosyncrasies were holding me hostage.
I could hear the voices of people entering the ballroom adjacent to the elevator. I had arrived to the coliseum a good 15 minutes early, so I wasn't worried about being late.
I was, however, worried that -- in the unlikely event that it hadn't made it all the way up to the 3rd floor -- I would have to be pulled out (imagine the jaws of life) of the elevator car. But, I looked out the little window in the door -- seriously, there was a window so you could see the floor number -- and it said "3" so I knew I was where I needed to be.
I saw the "call" button. I remembered the fact that the call button in the church elevator (my work) would call the janitor. I figured that this elevator would get me to someone. But to be sure, I had my cell phone ready to call 9-1-1 if necessary.
First attempt at the button was confusing. . . hard to hear the speaker (over my thundering pulse in my ears). Second attempt? A sweet woman's voice answered and said to me:
"Are you stuck?"
"Yes. I'm on the 3rd floor of the convention center in Knoxville." (I was on the 3rd floor of the Civic Coliseum -- but she knew I was nervous.)
"Are you okay?"
"Yes. I'm fine. Just embarrassed."
Understatement of the decade.
I kept praying that she wouldn't call the police -- you know, the police that were there in the ballroom waiting to talk to me about Buddy Walk. But she didn't. She called one of the precious maintenance men from the Coliseum who came to my rescue in about 4 minutes. Of course, that 4 minutes felt like 2 hours.
And, when he arrived, he looked in the window. Opened the outer door (vertically opened 'em), pulled back the metal grates -- and I exited as quickly as I could, muttering a humiliated "Thank you so much!" as I slinked into the ballroom -- praying that NO ONE realized what was going on.
They obviously didn't know a thing. I made it through my meeting -- and trust me, nothing was difficult by comparison.
As I drove home, I mused that things could only get better. And, for the most part -- they did.
When I called Mark, the first thing he said -- even before "Are you allright?" was: "Well, this will be something you'll blog about, right?"
And (obviously) he knows me pretty well, I'd say.
Last Thoughts
Today is a bizarre day in history. I heard the news early that Farrah Fawcett's death was imminent -- in fact, I heard a sound byte from Barbara Walters that said she thought she only had hours left. By the time I got into the office, turned on the computer, and checked my email -- it turns out Barbara was right.
But no one could have predicted the death of Michael Jackson. I read a quick news item that he had been taken to the hospital -- but all indications were that he was going to be allright. By the time I arrived at church for band practice -- the news was released that he'd passed.
These were two icons for my generation. Countless girls in 7th grade in the 70s tried to feather their hair -- based on the countless pictures of Farrah. Many of our friends of the male persuasion had her poster up in their rooms, or in their lockers. Her most famous poster was controversial then -- and I have to be honest -- I wouldn't want Edison to have it hanging in his room. It's amazing how one's perspective changes when its YOUR teenage son.
And Michael? The King of Pop? Gone? Well, I'm still scratching my head over this one. What a multi-faceted soul. Brilliantly talented. No one can deny that. Troubled beyond words. Again, no one could argue that fact.
But the truth remains -- he leaves behind three sons.
Side note: Who names their kid "Blanket?!?!"
His father, brothers, and sister are mourning their loss . . as they should. And a generation that grew up marveling at his Moonwalking abilities, his creativity, and his generosity (albeit the strangeness really came out at this juncture) -- we're mourning the loss of one of our superstars.
I had the "Thriller" cassette in college.
I had the Jackson 5 Christmas album.
I even had Michael posters up in my dorm room in college.
They hung next to Tom Selleck. It was the 80s.
So, with very mixed emotions -- I'm closing off today with a slightly heavy heart. And if this is how I'm reacting to Michael Jackson. . . you won't want to read the blog entry when a few other celebrities pass on.
"Ann, do you farkle?" (spoken by Mark)
"Usually just in the bathroom." (spoken by an embarrassed Ann)
'splanation? No problem.
Farkle is a game that is now available on Facebook. One more die than Yahtzee. Far more addicting.
Melany? Hooked
Mark? Hooked
Me? Shamelessly Hooked.
Turns out. . .it's a real game. I never knew.
Check it out. If you're on Facebook -- give it a try. But I have to warn you. . . you'll be hooked.
Let's see. . .what else? Oh yeah. . .(sigh)
Today's entry can be filed under "Things You're Gonna Blog About"
This morning, the City of Knoxville Special Events Department held their monthly meeting for organizations that are holding events in Downtown Knoxville. I attended two of these meetings last year, in anticipation of the Buddy Walk. This year, I worked it out to only have to attend one. . . and it was today.
The Knoxville Civic Coliseum is an old-ish building. It's great -- we saw the Knoxville Opera Company's production of "Aida" a few years ago. We've also been to concerts there -- and the Knoxville Ice Bears play there.
Today, the City meeting was held in their 3rd floor ballroom, where it is always held. In previous years, I have gotten stuck in the parking garage, or gone the wrong way down a one-way street. But today -- all traffic incidents were inconsequential. In fact, things went swimmingly.
When I got inside the building, things took an interesting turn. You see, the Civic Coliseum has an old-fashioned elevator. The kind like you see on episodes of Will & Grace -- not that I watch Will & Grace. But I have seen the elevator -- metal grates--door that closes vertically, rather than horizontally.
This elevator was no different.
I entered in the lobby, hit the button for the 3rd floor. Then I thought to myself: "Gosh, I really do like this elevator. Such character. It's so Greenwich Village." The metal grates closed, and the exterior door closed vertically. I took in the sights & smells. The old wooden floor -- the creaking of the gears -- it was a feast for the senses.
2nd floor
3rd floor
I arrived at my destination, and the elevator came to a stop.
Nothing happened.
The grate didn't open
The vertically closing doors stayed closed.
The gears stopped making noises.
Nothing.
Trying not to panic, I laughed at how I'd just celebrated the idiosyncrasies of this antique elevator -- and now those idiosyncrasies were holding me hostage.
I could hear the voices of people entering the ballroom adjacent to the elevator. I had arrived to the coliseum a good 15 minutes early, so I wasn't worried about being late.
I was, however, worried that -- in the unlikely event that it hadn't made it all the way up to the 3rd floor -- I would have to be pulled out (imagine the jaws of life) of the elevator car. But, I looked out the little window in the door -- seriously, there was a window so you could see the floor number -- and it said "3" so I knew I was where I needed to be.
I saw the "call" button. I remembered the fact that the call button in the church elevator (my work) would call the janitor. I figured that this elevator would get me to someone. But to be sure, I had my cell phone ready to call 9-1-1 if necessary.
First attempt at the button was confusing. . . hard to hear the speaker (over my thundering pulse in my ears). Second attempt? A sweet woman's voice answered and said to me:
"Are you stuck?"
"Yes. I'm on the 3rd floor of the convention center in Knoxville." (I was on the 3rd floor of the Civic Coliseum -- but she knew I was nervous.)
"Are you okay?"
"Yes. I'm fine. Just embarrassed."
Understatement of the decade.
I kept praying that she wouldn't call the police -- you know, the police that were there in the ballroom waiting to talk to me about Buddy Walk. But she didn't. She called one of the precious maintenance men from the Coliseum who came to my rescue in about 4 minutes. Of course, that 4 minutes felt like 2 hours.
And, when he arrived, he looked in the window. Opened the outer door (vertically opened 'em), pulled back the metal grates -- and I exited as quickly as I could, muttering a humiliated "Thank you so much!" as I slinked into the ballroom -- praying that NO ONE realized what was going on.
They obviously didn't know a thing. I made it through my meeting -- and trust me, nothing was difficult by comparison.
As I drove home, I mused that things could only get better. And, for the most part -- they did.
When I called Mark, the first thing he said -- even before "Are you allright?" was: "Well, this will be something you'll blog about, right?"
And (obviously) he knows me pretty well, I'd say.
Last Thoughts
Today is a bizarre day in history. I heard the news early that Farrah Fawcett's death was imminent -- in fact, I heard a sound byte from Barbara Walters that said she thought she only had hours left. By the time I got into the office, turned on the computer, and checked my email -- it turns out Barbara was right.
But no one could have predicted the death of Michael Jackson. I read a quick news item that he had been taken to the hospital -- but all indications were that he was going to be allright. By the time I arrived at church for band practice -- the news was released that he'd passed.
These were two icons for my generation. Countless girls in 7th grade in the 70s tried to feather their hair -- based on the countless pictures of Farrah. Many of our friends of the male persuasion had her poster up in their rooms, or in their lockers. Her most famous poster was controversial then -- and I have to be honest -- I wouldn't want Edison to have it hanging in his room. It's amazing how one's perspective changes when its YOUR teenage son.
And Michael? The King of Pop? Gone? Well, I'm still scratching my head over this one. What a multi-faceted soul. Brilliantly talented. No one can deny that. Troubled beyond words. Again, no one could argue that fact.
But the truth remains -- he leaves behind three sons.
Side note: Who names their kid "Blanket?!?!"
His father, brothers, and sister are mourning their loss . . as they should. And a generation that grew up marveling at his Moonwalking abilities, his creativity, and his generosity (albeit the strangeness really came out at this juncture) -- we're mourning the loss of one of our superstars.
I had the "Thriller" cassette in college.
I had the Jackson 5 Christmas album.
I even had Michael posters up in my dorm room in college.
They hung next to Tom Selleck. It was the 80s.
So, with very mixed emotions -- I'm closing off today with a slightly heavy heart. And if this is how I'm reacting to Michael Jackson. . . you won't want to read the blog entry when a few other celebrities pass on.
posted by Angie at 12:13 AM
7 Comments:
wow so much to comment on... when i last saw melany she was doing that pathwords things, i blink and its farkle... i can barely facebook let alone do the games, but we'll see... at K's grad last night someone asked me "did michael jackson really die" it was a blip for me because of all the other mom emotion going on... but i woke this morning thinking I will always remember that he died on the day she graduated... and thinking that he was crazy and there were children in this world who called him father... *shakes head* thank God there is a mighty big God in this world
I tried Farkle, but didn't get into it. I prefer our word puzzle games.
Grace under pressure you are! I hope your Buddy Walk meeting went well.
As for the celeb thing, I'm worried about Farrah's father. I saw the documentary a while back and he just seems like such a precious man. He has had such loss in his life. I'm also worried about the three Jackson children. I'm afraid it's going to be an ordeal for them.
I'm with you on the weird name thing...
Are we so addicted to blogging that our spouses and friends always say "that's good blog material" ? Oh my!
Hugs!
Farkle is tons of fun. We play it all the time. We also play Greedy Greedy, it's a derivation of Farkle and much more interactive. Their website is www.highpointgames.com
farkle is awesome, thanks for introducing me to the facebook version because i love the real one since i learned it a couple years ago (could it be 2 years since javen's surgery...wow, time flies!)
I especially like where you clarified to the building people that you were in Knoxville.
But I understand - you don't want them to go lacking for information.
If you are looking for the best farkle game for the Mac, go to
http://bestbackgammon.com
I did play the REAL Farkle (horrible name, they need to rename it!) at a friend's house on the 4th. I think I was overly tired because I just couldn't get it. So far, it's been easy for me to avoid the online version. Hoping to keep it that way!
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