Photo Credit: Glen Campbell Photography; http://glenncampbellphoto.com/ Flashback – two years ago:
“And, so, Dad,” Mitra explained. “My job is interfering with my life. They expect me to travel…”
“I’m a platinium elite traveller,” I thought.
“… and, well, five days a week is simply too much. I love my job, but …”
“Hmm…”
“So, anyway, they agreed to let me work four days. And I only have to spend 1 day a week in the office.”
Flashback – one year ago.
“Well, Dad,” Mitra explained. “One entire day in the office – it’s so stressful. It also interferes with my dancing.”
“Hmm…”
“So, anyway, they agreed to let me work 3 days a week. I only have to spend ½ a day every other week in the office. I just love this job.”
Christmas holiday – present time
“And, so, Dad,” Mitra explained. “My job is interfering with my life. They expect me to travel…”
“I’m a platinium elite traveller,” I thought.
“… and, well, five days a week is simply too much. I love my job, but …”
“Hmm…”
“So, anyway, they agreed to let me work four days. And I only have to spend 1 day a week in the office.”
Flashback – one year ago.
“Well, Dad,” Mitra explained. “One entire day in the office – it’s so stressful. It also interferes with my dancing.”
“Hmm…”
“So, anyway, they agreed to let me work 3 days a week. I only have to spend ½ a day every other week in the office. I just love this job.”
Christmas holiday – present time
The family was complete when Mitra arrived with her giant pink suitcase. Unaware of the global financial meltdown, she had quit her job at Hall and Partners in order to concentrate on her passion for tango. Accordingly, the week before her departure had been hectic. She finished up (and handed off) job-related tasks while also defining and structuring passion-related tasks. She hadn’t allocated time for sleep.
“I’ll just take a 15 minute power nap,” Mitra said when we arrived at the apartment. She awoke several hours later.
Last year Mitra decided to establish ‘new traditions.’ (She ignored my comment: “If it’s new, it’s not a tradition.”) As a result, it is now become traditional to do non-traditional things at Christmas. Last year, for example, Darius and I actually prepared a meal the day before The Martin Family holiday scavenger hunt. Mitra, in her role as Family Architect of Mischief, announced the 2008 family photo contest and described the ‘rules’.
“… a disposable camera will be issued to each person. Everyone will take photos and select their five favourites. We’ll use a secret ballot to officially choose the picture that best conveys the spirit of our 2008 Christmas celebration. I will personally certify….”
“What does the winner get?” Darius (economically) asked.
“Family status,” I replied.
“Big Whoop, Dad. I want…”
“… recognition, Dar,” Mitra interrupted. “The winning photo will be prominently displayed on the family blog. The winning photographer will be fully credited.”
Competitive instincts kicked in and family members spent the next few days either “being paparazzi” or “dodging paparazzi”.
Employing my business background, I asked Mitra about her plans.
“Tango, Dad.” She replied. “I teach, DJ, write music, write poetry..”
“Hmm…” I replied. “Poetry?” I thought.
“I have friends who are making a living doing this,” Mitra explained. “And it’s my passion.”
“Doing something you love makes sense to me.” I replied. “But, making money is another thing.” I thought.
“And, I’ve been invited to speak and teach at a festival.”
“Where?”
“Salt Lake City. They’re paying me.”
“Wow!” I replied. “Tango is permitted in Utah?” I thought.
Driving home after we had dropped Mitra off at the airport, I asked Nazy about Mitra’s poetry.
“She gave me a copy of her poems. Would you like to read them?”
“Nazy, my dear. I am a graduate of Georgia Tech. I am an engineer. A ramblin’ gamblin’ helluva an engineer.”
“You could try reading..”
“The Cat in the Hat is my idea of poetry, Nazy.”
“Dan…”
“I think that iambic pentameter is a instrument used for measuring the interior angles of a pentagon.”
“That’s not…”
“Of course, I do like limericks:
There once was an Argentine dancer
Who looked like a reindeer named Prancer…”
“That’s enough, Dan.” Nazy interrupted my creative juices.
“I’ll just take a 15 minute power nap,” Mitra said when we arrived at the apartment. She awoke several hours later.
Last year Mitra decided to establish ‘new traditions.’ (She ignored my comment: “If it’s new, it’s not a tradition.”) As a result, it is now become traditional to do non-traditional things at Christmas. Last year, for example, Darius and I actually prepared a meal the day before The Martin Family holiday scavenger hunt. Mitra, in her role as Family Architect of Mischief, announced the 2008 family photo contest and described the ‘rules’.
“… a disposable camera will be issued to each person. Everyone will take photos and select their five favourites. We’ll use a secret ballot to officially choose the picture that best conveys the spirit of our 2008 Christmas celebration. I will personally certify….”
“What does the winner get?” Darius (economically) asked.
“Family status,” I replied.
“Big Whoop, Dad. I want…”
“… recognition, Dar,” Mitra interrupted. “The winning photo will be prominently displayed on the family blog. The winning photographer will be fully credited.”
Competitive instincts kicked in and family members spent the next few days either “being paparazzi” or “dodging paparazzi”.
Employing my business background, I asked Mitra about her plans.
“Tango, Dad.” She replied. “I teach, DJ, write music, write poetry..”
“Hmm…” I replied. “Poetry?” I thought.
“I have friends who are making a living doing this,” Mitra explained. “And it’s my passion.”
“Doing something you love makes sense to me.” I replied. “But, making money is another thing.” I thought.
“And, I’ve been invited to speak and teach at a festival.”
“Where?”
“Salt Lake City. They’re paying me.”
“Wow!” I replied. “Tango is permitted in Utah?” I thought.
Driving home after we had dropped Mitra off at the airport, I asked Nazy about Mitra’s poetry.
“She gave me a copy of her poems. Would you like to read them?”
“Nazy, my dear. I am a graduate of Georgia Tech. I am an engineer. A ramblin’ gamblin’ helluva an engineer.”
“You could try reading..”
“The Cat in the Hat is my idea of poetry, Nazy.”
“Dan…”
“I think that iambic pentameter is a instrument used for measuring the interior angles of a pentagon.”
“That’s not…”
“Of course, I do like limericks:
There once was an Argentine dancer
Who looked like a reindeer named Prancer…”
“That’s enough, Dan.” Nazy interrupted my creative juices.
"I checked "Tango Mar Vista" - they had something like 150,000 'hits'. What do you think of that?"
"That's Mitra's website, right?" Nazy asked.
"Exactly. I can't even find my blog on google."
"Maybe you should put a link to hers."
"Great idea." http://www.tangomarvista.org/.
... the winning photo will appear in the blog shortly....
3 comments:
hey! I got my start in writing poetry from dad's original verses written in the inside cover of those dr. seuss books :)
btw, so far, the new job is great! but, I fear it WILL include a lot of days at the office AND travel...
can't wait to see the highly anticipated post about THE GREAT MARTIN FAMILY BLOG PHOTO CONTEST
Since Dad didn't finish the poem:
There once was an Argentine dancer
Who looked like a reindeer named prancer
She tangoed through Christmas
But not on the isthmus
Cause isthmus tangooning's no answer.
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