Everybody Cut Footloose (But Not So Fancy-Free, Mister)

I hear there's a Footloose remake coming out.

I never saw this movie.

That's because in college, Jorge broke up with me while this movie was in theaters. During this break-up, he took a "girl" to this movie. Somehow, putting quotations around "girl" make her seem ... sketchy, at least that was my goal. But I think she was just really "a girl." Normal and everything.

I saw this girl later on, after we got back together. I said mean things about her-- having wide hips and being an equestrian. ? (I don't know. I was grasping.)

But to this day, when I hear "Let's Hear it for the Boy," I roll my eyes.

Twenty-eight years later, I'm still rolling my eyes and being snarky over one little, teeny-tiny HELLO--MAJOR event.

Anyway, they're remaking it, starring Kenny Wormald, Julianne Hough, Dennis Quaid and Andie McDowell. I kind of like the oldsters in this, so maybe I'll go see this one.

Of course, I'd have to get a get date. And since I'm married, it would probably have to be that guy who dumped me and saw Footloose #1 with The Equestrian. Not that I would ever bring that up during the movie or dinner or drive home or anything, oh nooooo.

So how about you ... is there anything from your early dating years with your spouse that you STILL bring up? A date that went bad, a break-up, a horrible miscommunication, an awful, tacky gift? (Please don't let me be the only one.)

Then back me up, spill what you can. Because life is too short to forget these petty grievances; let's make sure we get them down for posterity. LOL.

Anniversary Pictures

See the little blonde angel next to my little angel about 13 years ago? (The're 17 and 18 now). Her name is Laura, and she is all grown up and has a photography business called "Snaphappy."



We have known Laura all her life, even before she was born (on a Mother's Day, along with a twin brother), so what an honor and joy it was to have Miss Snaphappy take 25th anniversary pics of Jorge and me last Sunday.



Here are a few of the many shots she took. I hope you like the photos; we sure do! Thanks, Laura!

Happy 25th Anniversary, Jorge!

June 14, 1985-June 14, 2010 ~ 25 Years!

Yes, today is my 25th wedding anniversary. I married my high school friend, my college sweetheart. He was a wonderful young man who grew into someone even more wonderful over the years. We have weathered a lot together. We look forward to a future together and talk about that almost daily.

I smile when I look back on this date, how 25 years later we would not only still be together but be parents of two adults and one almost-adult child. Of course, they will always be "children" to us, but my goodness, how Time and Life have marched swiftly from then until now. Unbelievable.

Thank you, Jorge, for putting up with me, all of my illnesses, selfishness, narcissism, immature faith and annoying habits, like clearing my throat. I'm sorry for all the times I've failed you. Thank you for loving me anyway. Thank you for always encouraging me. I do not deserve you.

And you're still hot, by the way. Prettiest green eyes in the world, best sense of humor, smartest person I know, best male body of our graduating class, best male body of anybody I know now. You make me so happy. I love you!














This is a newspaper column published in 1997. I'd like to share it again, with an updated title.

Happy 25th, George!

On June 15, 1985, I was a college graduate of three weeks and a bride of 24 hours. I remember languishing poolside in Floridian bliss, humming along to Tears for Fears' Everybody Wants to Rule the World, while sipping a cold drink and exchanging smiles with my bridegroom. I didn't want to rule the world exactly, but I did have big plans for my new married life.

When I hear the song now, I smile at the irony of the first line: "Welcome to your life; there's no turning back ... ." At 22, what did I know about a commitment to care forever -- no turning back?

Occasionally, I wish I could return to June 14, 1985, and meet myself as a young bride at the back of the church. I'd whisper candidly to the young me about my expectations versus the reality of the years ahead. If you had asked me then if I understood the scope and weight of my vows, I would have said yes, but I didn't really.

Being in love didn't prepare me for those first grocery shopping ventures, when I plopped favorites into the cart and he promptly removed them. I didn't know that without due warning he would change my radio stations. Who knew we'd spend 25 years disagreeing about how to mow the lawn? And how could I have known that he had a sleeping disorder? Or (and this still puts a chill up my spine) that we would have kids with sleeping disorders?

I didn't understand that he couldn't be "everything" for me. After all, he was the love of my life, with emphasis on "my."

And that poor bridegroom -- he didn't know the half of his bride's self-centered capacities. He didn't know his fun-loving girlfriend would be so uptight about clothes on the floor and dust on ceiling fans. How could an affectionate girlfriend neglect to meet her husband when he walked through the door after work each night? And how did she manage to break so many things weekly? Imagine his confusion about a wife who six months into marriage began daily afternoon naps that merged into nights. Had he married a narcoleptic?

No, the power naps were due to the hormonal changes of pregnancy, and he would be a dad in only his second year of marriage.

Who knew?

God did. He knew we would go through seasons of joy alternated with frustration, depression, family deaths, disappointment in each other and in ourselves. But by the grace of God who remained faithful to us when our commitment lagged, and through the support of church family and friends, we stand together 25 years later.

Ecclesiastes 4:12 says, "Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not easily broken"(NIV).

Three strands: God, my husband, and me.

At times, the cord frayed, but it didn't break, because ultimately, we love God and value who we are as a couple and a family more than we love our individual selves-- not because we're noble or martyrs, but because God's spirit in us "grew" this counter-human commitment to something bigger than ourselves as individuals.

Based on statistics, it's a safe bet that without positioning our marriage and family on his principles and grace, we wouldn't be together today.

A line in the aforementioned songs says, "There's a room where the light won't find you/holding hands while the walls come tumbling down/When they do I'll be right behind you..." In the tropical sun of 1985, I wouldn't have believed that darkness could ever threaten us. But by banding together when darkness came and walls fell, we defended each other when one was weaker. And when we were both tired, our anchor strand was strong enough to get us through.

I am not as naive about life and expectations anymore. I do know that when my husband is pushed, I'll be right behind him, supporting him. When walls tumble, I'll be right beside him, holding his hand.

And even if I could time travel and enlighten myself about the triumphs and trials to come, I'd trust in the outstretched hand of my bridegroom at the altar, squish my puffy dress through the vestibule, and confidently meet him there -- no turning back.



Copyright Linda Crow. Previously published in the Muncie Star Press, June 16, 2007.

FB Status Update Today

Kristin is visiting IU's Campus today. Jorge left this message on FB for her: "Make sure you check out the common area on the 5th floor of Wilke. The floor is still stained by my tears from missing your mom." Very sweet. And an example of why I still love him

Lingonberries, Hall & Oates, Ikea: Let's Catch Up and Then Preview the Dozen

EDIT: Blogger is wonky. Can't publish comments as of last night and today.

Thanks for the birthday wishes!

Glad to know I'm not the only post-adolescent who will admit to loving purple.

And yes, I had the purple shag carpeting and lavender bedroom walls with a canopy and white furniture when I was little.

Donny, however, missed all the signs and went and married someone else, but OH WELL, his loss, and my definite gain because my honey took me to Ikea over the weekend--twice.

And no, "took me to Ikea" is not code for honeymoon talk like, "fly me to the moon;" he really did take me to Ikea not once but twice, which I'm pretty sure guaranteed him a condo in heaven and makes this the longest sentence I've ever written.

Can you tell I'm in a good mood?

When we arrived at Ikea Sunday, we ate in their little cafeteria, and yes, I had the Swedish meatballs, mashed potatoes and lingonberry (ling-uhn-ber-ree) sauce. I believe the literal translation of "lingonberry" from Swiss is: "Why are we sitting here eating cranberry sauce when we could be downstairs shopping for plates and vases and rugs and bookcases and chairs?? OHMYGOSH let's get out of here!!"

I picked up two cute little seasonal lamps, one orange for Fall, one green for ... kicks? for my dining area. I also picked up a table runner and a few other odds and ends and gifts. (Must click on to see lamp better, also the wrinkle in the runner-ugh) Cheap, cheap, cheap, and fun, fun, fun.

As if it couldn't get any "funner," Jorge bought me some chocolate later that night, and then there was a Hall and Oates concert on TV, which, as you may or may not know, is a guilty pleasure of mine. Their music, that is. For there is no guilt in chocolate. "Blue-eyed soul," I believe their music is called. Jorge said that John Oates is the Harpo Marx of Hall and Oates because of the hair and not ever speaking.











And that would be one more reason why I love Jorge, because he is more nuts than I am.

Monday morning we ate at Panera, which is my fave, and then Jorge took me back to Ikea because there was this bowl that I've been wanting for the longest time, and it's $10 cheaper this year, so I had "Non-buyer's Remorse" and went back after it.

Then we went shopping for a Netbook for me, but I decided to wait until closer to the holidays to see if the price drops.

But Jorge was ready and willing to buy me one, which was very sweet.

Don't even go there, Donny. Your window of opportunity with me passed (uh, let me do the math ... 47 minus 12 = 35) THIRTY-FIVE YEARS AGO.

Speaking of rAnDoM, here is the preview for tomorrow. NOTE: Some of you are still not getting this concept, bless your hearts. Today is the preview. You read, think, create. Tomorrow, you post and link that particular post (not just your blog) to my post tomorrow. (Note that there were two "tomorrows" in that sentence. For a reason.) Then people will come and see you and land right on the correct post at your place. I hope that makes sense. But even if it's not clear, don't let that stop you from joining in, OK? We'll find you somehow, even if we find you ... irritating. KIDDING!! Totally kidding.

1. On an average, how often do you splurge and buy something for yourself?
2. Are you more like Hall or Oates? Just kidding. Real question: What is the last creative project you began/finished? Feel free to post a pic of it.
3. OK, Goldie Locks, do you consider your house too big, too little or juuuust right?
4. What is your favorite outdoor chore?
5. If you knew that cigarette smoking was not bad for your health but would be a weight loss tool, would you use it? Why or why not?
6. On a road trip, would you rather drive or ride?
7. What do you consider a trivial pursuit?
8. This weekend, we downloaded the movie "Duplicity" with Julia Roberts and Clive Owen. Within 5 minutes, I was bored and annoyed, but I kept watching 5-10 minutes at a time hoping it would get better between small chores. I finally gave up and Jorge watched it alone, and then regretted wasting that time because he disliked it intensely, too. So ... how long do you watch a movie or read a book before giving up on it?
9. Is there a song that you really love but are embarrassed to admit because it's not cool or it's racy or because it's by Hall and Oates?
10. On a scale of 1-10 (10 = extremely) how spontaneous are you?
11. Are you a food and/or beverage snob?
12. Who/What are you trying to control in your life?

Donny, Jorge, and the Class of 2013

First of all, I can't believe that yesterday, August 18, passed without my mentioning that it is the anniversary of the first time I saw Donny Osmond at the Indiana State Fair, 1973.

Excuse me? THIRTY SIX YEARS AGO?? I did the math quickly in my head and then wrote it out like a third grader to make sure--yes, 36 years ago. In this context, 36 years is like an eon, which the dictionary says contains two or more eras. Oh, will the oldness ever stop? (Yes, I guess it will at some point!)

And yes, Donny is indeed going to be on DWTS this season (Sept 21), but I'm a little afraid to watch due to the Cloris Leachman Aging Syndrome, which is more painful for the audience than for the afflicted participant.

Speaking of TV, one of my biggest faves, Biggest Loser, premieres Sept. 15, or five weeks from now, to be exact, which is like half an eon, or one era. I cannot wait.

On a completely different subject, it has finally happened: I have called George "Jorge" so much here on the blog (and IRL) that I slipped up at work and signed him up for something as Jorge Crow, which cracked up a co-worker. Me too, because I never thought I'd do that. At least I didn't write "Jorge the Jabanero." My calling him Jorge goes back to when we were in high school. He was in Spanish class; I was in French class. Of course, everyone had appropriate names for those classes, and his was Jorge. It stuck with me and has picked up steam in the last couple of years. Also, sometimes I bellow "Jorge Feliciano!" when I really want his attention.

Finally, Beloit College has released its annual Beloit College Mindset List, which illustrates the cultural differences in the lives of students entering college.

For the class of 2013, here are a few:

* Michael Landon, Dr. Seuss, and Freddie Mercury have always been dead.

* The Green Giant has always been Shrek, not the big guy picking vegetables.

* The KGB has never officially existed.

* They have never had to “shake down” an oral thermometer.

* The European Union has always existed.

* Condoms have always been advertised on television.

* There has always been a Cartoon Network.

* They have always been able to read books on an electronic screen.

* There have always been flat-screen televisions.

* There has always been a Planet Hollywood.

* There has always been blue Jell-O.

You can read the full list here. Can you think of any to add?

Weight

For about a week, Jorge has been telling me that I appear to be losing weight.

You'd think that observation would be very encouraging, wouldn't you?

Except that he says it looks like I'm losing weight in my head.

Yes, I said in my head. Not face, but head.

I said, "Are you sure it's not just that my hair is flatter? Face is thinner?"

"Nope. It looks like your head is getting smaller."

Thus we posed for the above pic.

Gee, I was hoping we'd make it to next June when we'll be celebrating our 25th, but in light of this kick he's on, I'm considering knocking him into next year without me.

Weight, Part II

After my gym work out today, I ran to WOWmart to pick up a few things. In the produce section, I hear, "LINDA!"

I turn to see an old friend, who also happens to have been Jorge's high school sweetheart. I truly love her very much-not just words.

Anyway, beautiful then, beautiful now. Groan.

As an adult, she put on quite a bit of weight, but she lost it recently and was so thin I absolutely did not recognize her.

I couldn't stop looking at her face and body, although I knew I was being rude. I just couldn't help myself. She said many people do not even recognize her.

As I stood there gawking, I remembered that I just came from the gym and had fewer clothes on than I'm used to wearing.

Like, here's what I wore to church last week:


And then I remembered that since she has seen me last, I've probably gained 15-20 lbs.

Ouch.

All I could think of when I walked away was, "Don't see me from behind. Don't see me from behind."

But I don't know why I'm so worried. After all, her head is still bigger than mine.

Lucky Jorge. If life had not turned out like this, he might have married her, and there he'd be stuck with a woman with a not small head. I hope he knows how blessed he is.

Too Long to Read? Nahhh! Grab a Cup. Let's Catch Up!

Welcome to cawfee tawlk. I'm your host, Linda Richman. Er, Crow. Tawlk amongst yaselves; I'll give you a tawpic: Weekends. Discuss.

Ah, the weekend. Allow me to Back it up, Barkus.

Meandering Moment: Pre-retirement, my dad was a trucker. He drove an 18-wheeler, which meant loading and unloading at docks was a huge part of his life. One of his closest co-workers was a guy named Don Barkus, whom I believe is now passed on.

When my dad would talk in his sleep, even years after retirement, one of his most common exclamations, and I do mean exclamations in the sense of !!!!, was a phrase oft-heard at the docks:

"Back it up, Barkus!"

which completely cracks me up and causes me to look for opportunities to say it.

Thus, "Back it up, Barkus," has become synonymous with
A) Physically step back, Dude
B) Rewind mentally/verbally.

Where was I? Oh, backing up the weekend, Barkus.

I fell down Thursday night. It was bedtime, and I was walking through my fam room to the one step up which leads to a short hall which leads to the bedroom, when the step reached up and wrenched my ankle, which caused me to do what this model does in the video, although I wasn't carrying a watering can. And by the way, I feel sorry for model Kamilia Wawrzyni, one, because of the way I'm sure people butcher her name and B) There is actually water in that can (Why?) and III) That had to hurt.



So all weekend I have been dealing with "water can ankle."

But I didn't let it stop me from running, and Friday I ran 5.5 miles + walked a mile home. When I collapsed in the grass of my neighbor in Halteman Village, it may actually have been one of the proudest moments of my long life.

Jorge's flights from Ft. Lauderdale and Atlanta were both delayed, so I had one more evening by myself which I spent with Barbara Stanwyck.

On Saturday, I went to the beautiful wedding of the daughter of my friend, Diane, whom I've written about before who is battling cancer:


















Saturday evening, my father went into the hospital with chest pains, and I stayed there until 1:00 AM when they admitted him. I went to bed at 2 AM, rose at 7 AM, went to church, then took my mom back out to the hospital and sat with them most of the afternoon. (I knew via staff he wasn't in apparent danger or even in severe discomfort. The chest pains come and go.)

Dad is 87 and is in remarkable health for his age. So far, all of the test results are good, don't think he had a heart attack. Monday morning at 8:00, cardiolyte Dip and Echocardiogram. Say a little prayer. He's such a sweet man and so incredibly hard of hearing.

Final note on the weekend--Pet peeve list addition: Docs with foreign accents who will NOT speak up nor slow down when speaking to obviously deaf elderly people. What is up with this?? Where is the bedside manner? I kept telling the hospitalists how hard of hearing Dad is, and they would repeat the question with the same speed and volume. It was incredibly rude and ridiculous.

Dad would stare blankly at the doc, then turn his head to Mom for help who is also hard of hearing and not accustomed to foreign accents, who would either answer incorrectly or look to me, then I would speak VERY LOUDLY to demonstrate what you have to do for him to hear you, and then the doc would say, "OK," and then ask the next question in the frustrating manner. We did this absurd scene over and over. I was a loose cannon by 1:00 AM.

I was ready to shout, "Back it up, Barkus, and turn it up, too!"

OK. Now it's your turn to discuss: Weekend.

Thursday 13: When The Spouse Travels

Observations, good and bad, about when my spouse travels.

Good:

1. You can eat out of styrofoam bowls with plastic sporks all week long if you want to avoid dirty dishes. (If you want to avoid dirty dishes?)

2. You can get in and out of your vehicle without adjusting the seat and mirror each time. Ditto on the shower head.

3. There is no one to mock you for watching "The Bachelorette Tells All on the After-the-Rose-Jump-Hug Ceremony" or other quality reality shows.

4. Personal hygiene and maintenance of all sorts is an option, not a requirement.

5. You can decide to see a chick flick on a Tuesday night with a friend just because you want to without feeling guilty. Skippy doodles!

Bad:

6. There is no one upon whom to place your icy feet at night.

7. Your coffee doesn't make and walk itself to you each morning.

8. When you bemoan, "I can't wait for Kristin to come home from cross country camp because I miss her so much I went into her room and the tiny little pile of p.j.'s she left on the floor just broke my heart and I'm so sorry I've ever said a cross word to her in her entire life because she is the best, sweetest girl in the world" no one commiserates with you.

9. Your dog mopes around because your spouse, her favorite, is gone. This is both pathetic and a real honk off at the same time.

10. When you work on a draft for a column, no one feigns interest the way you are accustomed to.

11. He takes the book you're reading with him.

12. He is in Florida, and you're not.

13. You find yourself singing weird songs like, "Bluer Than Blue," and "Ain't No Sunshine When (s)He's Gone."

With apologies to Bill Withers (And I sound just like him when I sing this version):

Ain't no sunshine when he's gone.
I set the alarm when he's away.
Ain't no sunshine when he's gone
So I'm singing this bluesy song
And my readers have to pay.

Wonder who will mow the lawn.
Wonder which bills I should pay.
Ain't no sunshine when he's gone
And these cookies won't last long
anytime he goes away.

And I know, I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know

Hey, I could just pick up that phone,
But ain't no sunshine when he's gone.