As promised, I want to let you see some of the pictures of Rubix Cubed, the band Esther and I went to see last night. Check out their website – there’s music and videos and lots of info about the group:
This picture is of my sister-in-law Esther changing batteries in her camera.
Here are my nephew Steve aka Bender and Mickey. It’s hard to get a picture of Mickey that’s not blurred because she is constantly moving. I wish I had her energy.
This is a fair picture of the group: Steve aka Bender, Mickey the singer and dancer, Magnum the drummer, Crockett (on bass guitar) and Lost Boy David (on Keyboards).
This picture is pretty good, but Magnum the Drummer is not visible.
On the balcony above the band area were two very excited RubixCubed fans.
I hope you get a chance to see this group sometime. It’s worth whatever it costs and whatever distance you have to drive.
The event, called Pinot Noir, was for the benefit of Joshua House. I hope to get to the third annual which should take place next year.
I started my writing prompt for yesterday, well, yesterday, but didn’t finish it until this morning. I’m going to use it for today’s, which I haven’t yet started.
Writing Prompt: The last time…
The last time Gordon saw him, his father smiled and waved just like he did every other day as he left for work. Gordon knew he’d see his dad at the basketball game after school, even though his dad had a big meeting in the city that day. Since his father’s job as insurance agent allowed him some flexibility in his schedule, he never missed a game. Whether his mother would show up was another story. It was tough for her because her boss demanded she be at work even more than her regular hours.
Gordon’s dad had always been supportive. He spent a couple of hours a week playing GHOST with him. That had really improved his basketball skills. His dad worked with him on practice layups until Gordon finally got it. He also encouraged Gordon to shoot at least 50 foul shots every day. As his dad said, there was no excuse for missing a foul shot. No one was trying to block you or grab the ball. Many games had been won or lost with good or bad foul shots.
Looking at the clock, Gordon decided he’d better get to school before he was late. He grabbed his backpack, yelled goodbye to his mother and raced through the garage door. His bike was not there. Then, he remembered he’d forgotten to take it out of the back of his dad’s car the previous night. Now he would really have to hustle.
That day – and what a day it had been – was September 11, 2001. Everyone in school was talking about how some planes had flown into the Twin Towers and another at the Pentagon.
Nobody at school really knew what was going on, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. Many of his teachers had obviously been crying. This was something he’d never seen before. He guessed he’d have to ask his parents about it. When he’d seen the pictures on television, it seemed like something out of a movie. It didn’t seem real, but he guessed it was.
When he walked into the auditorium, he was excited and pleased to see his mother sitting on the bleachers. He waved at her. When he noticed she was crying – just like his teachers had – he ran over to her. She told him the bad news. His dad wasn’t going to make it to his basketball game. In fact, his dad wasn’t going to make it home at all. His meeting had been on the 99th floor of one of the Twin Towers. His mom had spent the whole day trying to find out whether his dad had survived. She hadn’t contacted Gordon before that because she didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily.
At first, Gordon wouldn’t believe it. He got angry with his mother for making up such a story. But, in his heart, he knew she was telling the truth. Everything in his life was going to change. If he had known it was the last time he would see his dad, would he have acted any differently? He didn’t know, but he felt he could have said something or done something to show his dad how much he loved him. At that point, Gordon realized we never know when we will see a loved one for the last time.
Until next time…
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