Metal Meredith

Gee, Thanks Gaston.

R.I.P. Grandpa’s Cadillac

On August 31st, 2004, Gaston came and killed my Caddy.

That morning, I went to Mom’s to see my Grandparents who were visiting from Balitmore. It started raining at 11:30am due to remnants of Hurricane Gaston that was now just a bad rainstorm. I left there aroung 1:30pm and it poured the whole way home. At times it was so bad I was going 30 mph in a 65 zone, not fun.

After I got home, Phil and I played with the baby, ate some lunch and generally thought ‘it sure was raining a lot’. We don’t have local tv channels (a whole other entry is needed to explain my intense hatred for DirecTV), so we thought nothing of how much rain was falling.

Around 5pm, Phil noticed that our front window was leaking. He pulled up the blinds to have a look and let out some not so pleasant words and said, “Meredith, Look outside, NOW”. So I did.

Much to my surprise, our street was a river. Water was halfway up the tires on our truck and Cadillac. There was nothing to be done at that point. Rain was continuing. I turned on the news, hearing reports of higways being shut down, people stuck in buildings in Shockoe Bottom, cars abandoned everywhere.

By 10:30 the rain had stopped. We watched the water rise above the bumpers on both cars. We watched the tires go under. Then, in an hour, all water had receeded. Phil went to check the cars and found water inside, over the seats. My heart filled with dread.

For those of you who don’t know the story:
[I] This car was a gift from my Grandfather. He lost most of his vision to Macular Degeneration several years ago. This was his baby.

In 1991, my Grandfather had an operation to remove a mass on his lung. They were positive it was cancerous, only to find out it was not (or so I recall with my 19 yr old selfish memory). My Grandmother bought this car as a gift. As he was wheeled out of the hospital, the car was driven up to pick him up. Everyone cried. It was the top of the line back then. He has treated it with the best of care since.

When he couldn’t drive anymore, he was crushed. It mainly lived under a tarp in the driveway. He spent $1500 getting it tuned up and ready to go, then gave it to me for Christmas last year. I was floored, I was elated, I was touched. It was so much more of a sentimental gift than a car. It kills me that this happened on my watch.[/I]

I got word on Friday that the car was a total loss. There is no way that I can replace the sentimentality that this car holds. Fortunately, that will always be with me.

On a good note, we are all ok. Our house is still intact and did not flood. Everyone that I know is safe and sound. A car isn’t so bad when you see it from that perspective. Feel free to peruse the photos in their own sepcial secton “Gaston’s Visit”.

Take Care,
Meredith, Phil, and Vivienne
(The photo above is a great way to tell our feelings. Are we laughing or crying? Truthfully, a little of both.)

Phil Hits the Big Time

I am not a motorcycle person. So a few years back when Phil announced the name of his new web design business as Top Dead Center, I had no idea what this meant. I had to go look it up.

Top Dead Center (TDC): The point at which the piston reaches the top of its travel on the compression stroke.

Ok, so where does this lead me? Phil officially kicked off his new “legit” Web Design Business last week, Top Dead Center Design and I am so proud. He is right on the cusp of something big, right when the spark fires and the engine starts with a roar.

When I met Phil he told me he wanted to go to work in a high rise, wear a suit and be respected by those in his chosen field. After many classes and several odd jobs later, Phil told me that he hated Web Design. Soon after, I couldn’t get him off the computer. Late at night he would be in his office staring at page after page of useless knowledge. Ok, well I am sure it meant something to him…

Now, I respect his work a great deal. I have been privvy to his growth in design and relationship building. I have seen him grow in ways that I was skeptical he could. He used to make me call for pizza, now he jumps at the chance to talk to a possible client to “enlighten him” on the uses of the web. He is motivated like I have never seen him before.

I am proud to call Phil my husband. But now, I am even more proud to be his employee. Please go take a look and see what he has done. And as always, if you are in need of some work, my kid needs fall shoes. (haha)

Meredith

http://tdcdesign.com

I am the Luckiest Girl in the World

This past weekend I went with Kym to say a farewell to some very dear friends, the band Barenaked Ladies. I met them in 1993 and have lost track of how many times I have seen them since. I am not only a fan of their music, but of each member of this wonderful group of guys.

In 1993, their music was fun, energetic and silly, all emotions I lacked during the divorce of my parents. It was an escape out of my daily life into a world where those things didn’t matter and I was special. This was the year I first met them and the start of a wonderful journey into adulthood.

Since then, I have been lucky enough to attend a New Year’s Eve party in Philadelphia in 1998, be introduced to sushi by them in 1995, have them meet (and approve of) my future husband in 1997, played video games with them in 1998, meet their families in 1999, and still have an entire list of memories beyond that.

When around them, Kym and I were always treated like people, not fans (or how fans should be treated.) Kym and I have more stories surrounding the shows and the meet and greets and aftershows than we can contain to one conversation...remember when Steve yelled at you for making him laugh during the “sad” song?...remember when you kicked Ed’s ass at Virtual Fighter at Celebration Station?...remember seeing Tyler’s new baby?...remember when they used to look like they shopped at JC Penny?...remember when they called Kevin at home on New Years during the show when he was undergoing chemo and it was so sweet we cried? The list goes on and on.

Since neither Kym nor I work for the label anymore, we had little hope past this show that we would ever be face to face with these guys again. When going to say our farewells, it was all I could do not to cry. It was not simply saying goodbye to a band, it was leaving behind a huge part of our lives that made us both so happy, that made us feel so special.

We have been lucky enough to have these people on a list of few that we call “friends”. Sure, they are famous, sure they live in Canada, and sure, we might only see them once every 2 years, but I love them more than I can put into words. So, here is to Barenaked Ladies; Steve, Ed, Tyler, Jim and Kevin. Thanks for everything you have given to me, Kym and our lives.

Meredith

Yet ANOTHER great article that I can’t pass up posting on here. I thought the photo summed it up. - Meredith-

For women over 30
Here is a piece written by Andy Rooney - CBS 60 Minutes.

As I grow in age, I value women who are over 30 most of all. Here are just a few reasons why:

A woman over 30 will never wake you in the middle of the night to ask, “What are you thinking?” She doesn’t care what you think.

If a woman over 30 doesn’t want to watch the game, she doesn’t sit around whining about it. She does something she wants to do. And, it’s usually something more interesting.

A woman over 30 knows herself well enough to be assured in who she is, what she is, what she wants and from whom.

Few women past the age of 30 give a damn what you might think about her or what she’s doing.

Women over 30 are dignified. They seldom have a screaming match with you at the opera or in the middle of an expensive restaurant. Of course, if you deserve it, they won’t hesitate to shoot you, if they think they can get away with it.

Older women are generous with praise, often undeserved. They know what it’s like to be unappreciated.

A woman over 30 has the self-assurance to introduce you to her women friends. A younger woman with a man will often ignore even her best friend because she doesn’t trust the guy with other women.

A woman over 30 couldn’t care less if you’re attracted to her friends because she knows her friends won’t betray her.

Women get psychic as they age. You never have to confess your sins to a woman over 30. They always know.

A woman over 30 looks good wearing bright red lipstick. This is not true of younger women or drag queens.

Once you get past a wrinkle or two, a woman over 30 is far sexier than her younger counterpart.

Older women are forthright and honest. They’ll tell you right off if you are a jerk if you are acting like one! You don’t ever have to wonder where you stand with her.

Yes, we praise women over 30 for a multitude of reasons. Unfortunately, it’s not reciprocal. For every stunning, smart, well-coiffed hot woman of 30+, there is a bald, paunchy relic in yellow pants making a fool of himself with some 22-year-old waitress.

Ladies, I apologize.
Andy Rooney