High Water Film Premiere

Mozart mixed the music for Dana Brown's latest film, High Water which premiered recently in Newport Beach.

Dana is the son of Bruce Brown who is well known for directing/writing the classic surf movie Endless Summer, and the classic dirt bike movie On Any Sunday. Mozart worked on Endless Summer II, along with Dust to Glory...and now, High Water. To see the movie trailer click on the blue title High Water above.

This event was quite unexpected. I had just returned home from my caregiving job when Mozart's phone rang. It was the composer of High Water. "Are you going to the premiere tonight?" It had slipped Mozart's mind. We had to get ready quickly and jumped on the freeway. The premiere was near my parents neighborhood, so we phoned my parents to see if they wanted to come. "Dress casual," we told them.

When we picked them up my dad was in his Hawaiian shirt, shorts and tennis shoes. I'm really glad we brought them, because of the Woodies. They were a pleasant surprise. My dad immediately got busy perusing the engines, hood ornaments and then struck up a conversation with a guy about his age, who was dressed just like him. They talked for so long, we were almost late getting into the movie.

Dad didn't realize it, but he was talking to Tom Morey, the inventor of the body board, also known as boogie board. Everyone has a boogie board in California, especially if you live near the beach. It's looks like a surf board cut in half. You lay on it...and surf on your stomach.

"What did you talk with him about?"I asked my dad.

"Oh we were talking about old Ford Engines and stuff."

I took this picture of Tom and my Dad. Tom is the guy in the funny hat. It had spiked fake hair sticking out of the top. My dad has the same hat at home.






The movie will be playing nationwide, but only in areas where it will draw an audience. Most likely, Florida, Hawaii, and other surfing areas.

After the movie, everyone stayed in the theater. They called Dana up to talk about how the film was made. Then they called his father Bruce Brown up to the front and he took the mike, and told some funny stories about his film-making past, as well as introduced us to some old time surfers in the audience.



It was a fun evening!


Click on the pictures for a life-sized look! Did you notice the rear-view mirror is the shape of a surfboard in the interior picture?

I Should be Writing

I should be writing but its hard to find time.

Here is my latest article. It came out in March 2009. It's the story of how I got started riding a dirt bike. My original title was: "When God Rode a Dirt Bike." For some reason the editors suggested I send in some alternative titles. But the first title was the best because...I tried to think of a title that would grab their attention. You see, they get thousands of articles each month and can't print them all.

The article IS about God on my bike...



They asked me to send in some pictures, too. It was a nice surprise to be on the front page.








For those of you who have time...here is the article.
My sons' and husband's names have been changed.
There is a picture at the bottom of the post--taken at the dry lake bed (6 years ago) when this happened.

Off-Road Riding With God

"C'mon Mom," said Cody, "Go riding with us!"

"You’re going to love it. Honest!” My husband Tom swung his leg over my son’s red motorcycle. "Cody is ready for more horsepower, so I’m buying him a four-fifty and giving his bike to you!”

I looked at the big red dirt bike with fear. “Me? On that?” Not a chance.

“C’mon, Mom!” said Cody.

“Yeah!” said my younger son, Dylan. “Pop a wheelie!”

I had never seen two teen boys look so excited about having their mother go somewhere with them.

Several months before, my husband had approached me with the idea of buying off- road motorcycles for the family.

“I need something I can do with the boys,” he reasoned. “I feel like we’re drifting apart.”

I liked the idea of the boys venturing into the backcountry with their father. But motorcycling wasn’t for me. I wanted to stay home and put my feet up. Parenting teenage boys had been difficult lately and I told Tom I needed a break—but I didn’t mean a leg!

“Just sit on it!” urged Cody.

“Pleeeeeeeeze Mom?” pleaded Dylan.

I felt myself weaken. Maybe it would do me good to get out. In recent weeks my heart had grown heavy due to escalating battles with our teen sons. I secretly wondered if my parenting decisions were good ones. I tried to give my anxious thoughts over to the Lord in prayer, but five minutes later I was worrying again.

Maybe the motorcycles would pull the family together again—and we needed some fun.

“What do you think?” my husband grinned.

“I’ll give it a try,” I said. Besides, I wasn’t a complete newbie. As newlyweds, Tom and I had ridden a few times with friends.

The rest of the week was a blur of shopping for boots, trying on helmets, and sliding into chest protectors. Next, Tom had me in the backyard practicing figure-eights, clutch control, and navigating around the dog’s water bowl. I had a lot of brushing up to do.

Before I could change my mind…Saturday arrived.

With four bikes in tow, we headed out into the California desert. Gazing out the window at a sea of sagebrush, I felt anxious. What would happen if I fell, veered off an embankment, or worse yet—stalled my bike while climbing a big hill? And if I made it to the top, how would I get down?

Tom elbowed me playfully, “We’re going to hit some gnarly single track today, okay?”

“Yeeeaaaa!” the boys cheered.

Blank stare.

Tom reached over and patted my knee. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We’re going to have fun today. I promise!”

“Uh huh,” I smiled faintly.

It seemed like we crossed the entire Southwest before stopping near a large dry lakebed and unloaded the bikes. Trails spread out around the parched lake like spider webs awaiting unsuspecting prey.

I started my bike and cautiously sputtered out over the lake to practice my shifting. Ten minutes later Cody whisked by, motioning to me.

“We’re heading out to the trails. Do you want to come?”

Not wanting to be left behind, I turned and followed Cody. He hit the trail in a blaze of dust, leaving me chasing his green bike through a maze of rock and sand. Finally we caught up with Tom and Dylan who had stopped to wait for us. Tom pointed ahead. My heart sank to my boots. The trail threaded along the base of the mountains then suddenly turned upward into a rock-strewn hill of doom.

“I’m not going up that hill!” I yelled over the rumbling motorcycles. Tom nodded and gave me a thumbs up. I gave him a thumbs down. He laughed. I glared.

“Watch me,” he shouted into my helmet. “Remember what I told you. Let your bike do the work!”

Tom hammered the throttle, dumped his clutch, and quickly climbed the hill. Cody and Dylan took off after him. The boys crested the top and disappeared. Looking like a speck at the top of the hill, Tom signaled for me to come up. What was I going to do now? No way was I going up that hill. What if my bike stalled or hit one of those rocks! Maybe I should turn around and head back. Which way was the truck again? The dirt trails curled in all directions and I knew deep down I had to keep going.

Let the bike do the work! I heard Tom’s voice in my head. Suddenly I remembered hearing that message before—during my quiet times with God. “Let me do the work,” the Lord seemed to say. I was trying to conquer the tough hills of parenting alone—in my own strength. At the end of the day, I would crawl into bed feeling cracked and worn out, just like an old dirt bike tire. In those moments the Lord would gently say, “Don’t forget about me. I’m here to help.”
I stared up at the towering hill before me and took a deep breath.

“Okay, Lord, we’ll do this together. You do your part and I’ll do mine.”

I flicked my bike into gear, and faced the hill. Ready, Lord? Let’s go! I twisted the throttle. The bike swerved over the sandy soil, and with the engine screaming, it grabbed the hill and started clawing its way up. Up and up we went.

When my front wheel hit a rocky section the bike sputtered. Oh no! It’s going to stall! I shifted down, hit the gas and hung on. With stones flying from under my back tire we climbed the last few feet to the top. Whew! I can’t believe we made it! You’re pretty good at this, Lord!
I slipped off my dusty goggles and looked around. Sculpted hills of all shapes and colors rose from the desert floor. The view was breathtaking.

“Go Baby!” shouted my husband.

From the bottom of the hill, two small forms waved and cheered. At that moment I knew that if God could bring me safely up this bumpy hill, he certainly could guide me along the ups and downs of parenting teen boys.

About five minutes later, I heard a shout from the bottom of the hill. The bikes were rumbling again. Tom motioned for me to follow him down the hill. Over the roar of the engines I could hear that old doubting voice. What if my brakes go out on the way down? What if I hit a rock and go careening over the handlebars? What if—Wait a minute. I couldn’t let those “what if’s” hold the same power over me anymore.

I wasn’t alone—not on my motorcycle and not in life. I wouldn’t be going down the hill all by myself. I had my riding partner with me! God would do his part and I would do mine.

I adjusted my goggles. Okay Lord! Let’s ride!

Feeling Young Again

I have two wonderful nieces who live in Colorado and one came for a visit last weekend, to help celebrate her grandfather's 80th birthday. Her mother and sister stayed in Colorado as they have many horses to take care of.

After "grandpa's" birthday party I took her to the beach and we walked around the tide pools.

And went bike riding with "grandma". (My mom and my niece pictured below)

And then, sailing on the duck pond with grandpa and her dad.

She now wants to move to California. She's 15.








She was especially

She was especially taken with the lemon tree, and was astounded by our high school's outdoor hallways and lockers. I never really thought we had unusual hallways and lockers, but she assures me that most high schools have indoor lockers.

It was a lot of fun to spend time with her, as I spend most of my time with 3 men. I especially liked her shopping attitude. "I can go to the mall in Colorado, but I can't go to the beach." So we went to the ocean twice in one day. She had never been to the beach in the evening so we watched the sun go down and the bonfires start. We saw boats decked with lights cruising the canal opening into the ocean.

On Sunday we went to church, and then went biking with grandma. We met grandpa and Hollee's father (my brother) down at the duck pond. They were sailing a remote control sailboat. Grandma said that my brother is going through his second childhood and that grandpa is going through his third.

"Grandpa" is now 80! Happy Birthday!!

Youngest Graduates High School

FLYING

GREEN

AND GOLD

CAPS

FAMILY

GRANDMA

GRANDPA

MOM

DAD

FRIENDS

AND

FINAL

PICTURE

?NOW WHAT?



SUMMER SCHOOL

SOCIOLOGY CLASS

WORKING AT MARKET

CURRENT MAJOR:
PSYCHOLOGY

Hiking

It all started in Sunday School when Dan said, "I'm going hiking after church."

Someone else said, "Why don't we all go?"

"All" did not go...but six of us showed up. It was quite an adventure--hiking uphill steadily for 3 miles to Henninger Flats. On the way back, it was much easier, but walking down hill for one hour can do interesting things to your leg muscles. We hiked a total of 6 miles.

It was fun to do something together outside of the usual setting of church. We all had a wonderful time and got to know each other better. Mozart couldn't go, because he has bad knees.

Newsflashes:

My 18-year-old graduated high school 24 hours ago! (Picture is coming) Grandma and Grandpa drove up for the occasion. Grandpa had a run in with a police officer. More on that later!

This morning our oldest worked on cleaning up an oil slick under his parked car. (With paint thinner and kitty litter) His car has been parked in our driveway for a long time, and we hadn't noticed that the oil overflowed the shallow pan until it started seeping out to where we could see it. After that, he went somewhere, and now it is late at night...I'm hoping he'll be here for Father's Day.

I have good news. I have been hired to work summer school-5th and 6th grade. I'm going to be working with a teacher that I've never met before. My caregiving job will continue--3 afternoons per week. I'm thankful to be employed!

May you all have a good day honoring the Fathers in your life!

Checking In

I have the habit of not writing anything on my blog if I don't have anything to say. That's what the situation is.

And I'm all "written-out" as I just finished writing the minutes for my writing critique group.

It seems like it takes me a lot longer to do things that I once did quickly.

I went to a memorial service today for a dear 90-something friend who knew the Lord and always was an encouragement to everyone around her. She was a part of my writing critique group. She always had a scripture verse in her head and gently reminded us of God's promises when we were feeling weak.

I'm having to double my trust in the Lord these days as it seems I must place my son on the altar. Sort of like the Abraham and Isaac situation.

But my faith is growing strong. Or is it...that...my situation is drifting further from my ability to fix it with human hands. So I watch it bob around on the waves in the distance---and I have no choice but to trust God.

But it hurts. As the family is cracked and broken. And this is how we must live.

But there are blessings. My youngest is graduating High School in two weeks. And Mozart and I went together to the Saturday church service and stayed for the spaghetti dinner. And lately, the sky has been filled with all kinds of interesting clouds.

My dad's 80th birthday is coming up in July, and in October is our 30th wedding anniversary...and our trip to Hawaii.

So there are blessings to soften the storms.

"Be strong and let your heart take courage. All you who hope in the Lord." Psalm 31:24

White on Rice

The High School had a "Battle of the Bands" contest and my younger son and his friends put together a band for the occasion.

Practices took place at our home. They weren't too noisy, at first. They seemed to have a lot of trouble deciding which songs to do. As the event drew nearer, things changed. I had to call the neighbor to the north and apologize for the noise.

On the night before...they were still at it at 10:56 p.m. I wanted to shut them down, but Mozart said..."Oh let them play." Thank goodness they quit at 11:00.

On the day of the big event, my youngest (call him "Y") temporarily misplaced his wallet. Since he cannot drive without a license, I had the honor of driving "Y" and his drums to school 2 hours before the performance.

On the way, I asked, "what time are you playing?"

"I don't know."

I think he was evading the question, because he wasn't thrilled about me coming.
I assured him that if I DID come, I would stand in the back in the shadows and call no attention to myself.

"We're number 9 out of 10 bands. Try coming about 7:30."

At 7:15, with my camera, I slipped into side door of the auditorium. It was pitch black except for the colored lights flickering behind band number 8 who was playing up a storm. I glanced around at the siloettes in the audience. I didn't see anyone over 19 years old except the judges who sat at a long table near the front.

Next...band number 9---White on Rice--took the stage. As they began to play, the audience started singing along. I wanted to take a picture but didn't want to run up front and embarrass my son. I quickly looked around and saw 4 giggling girls in the back row.

"Would you take a picture of the band for me?"
"Oh sure." They all got up and threaded their way to the front.
"Be sure to get the drummer" I called...but I wasn't sure if they heard me through the pounding noise.

The first song ended. The guitarist switched his instrument for a cello and they proceeded to play a pounding instrumental entitled "Final Countdown".

After the last band played, everyone gathered on stage. The second place winner would be announced first. The MC shouted..."Second place winner is...."

"Band Number 8!" (He said their name, but I forgot it.)

I quickly glanced at my son's band...(number 9--White on Rice).
They stood quietly (they are a little shy), while other bands put their arms around one another and braced themselves for the big announcement.

"First place winner is........."

"White on Rice!!"

APPLAUSE FILLED THE ROOM.

The boys, looking startled--yet smiling--gathered together as the MC approached them and asked,"How does it feel to be the first place winners of "Battle of the Bands."

They were speechless. Finally "Y" leaned forward and said "Spectacular!"

"There you have it...Spectacular!" shouted the MC.

"AND NOW...WHITE ON RICE...WE WANT AN ENCORE! CAN YOU DO ANOTHER SONG FOR US?"

The boys huddled to discuss which song to play, but it took them so long to decide...that the house lights finally went on...because the judges wanted to go home.

The girls returned my camera, and there were 2 great pictures of the band and low and behold, 4 pictures of the drummer.

Certainly life is full of surprises!



___________________________

Eldest son update:

Eldest son has worked 2 days. The job is only 3 days long, but I am so thankful for this encouragement. More odd jobs may be coming.