On the Hill

 February 20, 2024

 

That’s little Nance, age 5. She knew then: I can see it even through the rusty 1970s lens and in spite of that blasted bowl cut.

She knew who she was.

As happens, I’m not that same little nugget. And yet, I am.

As happens, allegedly big birthdays elicit this kind of self-indulgent reflection. I’ve walked, long-legged with a stride that my Auntie Grace always advised me to “shorten and walk like a lady,” up the alleged hill and on to the promised land of age 50, and I’ve learned some things. I’m putting them in writing in case I forget them again, like how I forget that guy who starred in that movie I saw with what’s her name after we ate at that place in…what year was that?…who was that? Ahhh…fifty.

 

Let’s not kid ourselves: you all have been waiting with bated breath for pearls of wisdom to leak from my now officially middle-aged mind. Here it goes:

1.   1. Grace is everything.

As Anne Lamott writes, “it meets you where you are and it doesn’t leave you where it found you.” (Praise be!) The human ability to give grace is superhuman: it is the ultimate evidence of God’s power in us and through us. It is a gift. God's grace? Well...there are no words.

 

2.   2. Swinging on a pendulum is a tricky way to live.

My life has been a search for oxygen. For balance. We live in a suffocating world filled with expectations of ourselves and others that can be crippling. I’ve tried everything to breathe: hard work, success, friends, marriage, divorce, freedom, obligations, passion, complacency, a clean house, a messy house, drinking what I shouldn’t drink and too much, eating what I should or shouldn’t or too little or too much, ardent commitment to my faith, fledgling distance from my faith, selfishness, selflessness. Do you see a pattern here?

There is peace in the middle—not in mediocrity, not in passivity--but in solid footing. And there is air there. By a miracle, I found it. It only took five decades.

3.   3. Lighten up and stay in your own lane.

I get most of my wisdom from the Good Book, The Golden Girls, and people I admire. Clairee, in Steel Magnolias, noted, “I’d rather walk on my lips than criticize.” Like me, Miss Clairee was lying. I LOOOOVVEEE to criticize. I love to cuss and carry on. None of these are shining tributes to my character.

What I DON’T do, however, is SHOULD all over people. What I think you should or shouldn’t do (unless I birthed you or I’m teaching you how to avoid comma splices or speak in public) is no one’s business. Negativity, for me, is sport. I’m not proud of it, but I don’t weaponize it. I used to, but I’m older and wiser now, see (this is a theme), and I’ve found that the musings I have about all the nutcracker nonsense that goes on in the world are how I cope. I laugh at most everything and try to share my stilted joy with those I love (bless them). Even Mr. Rogers knew “If it’s mentionable, it’s manageable.” He was much nicer, and this isn’t quite what he meant, but it works. It does! Most of the time, when I see and hear folks telling other folks what they should or shouldn’t do—when it bears them no harm or foul and they are shoulding all over each other—I think lighten up. Get back in your lane.

There are a lot of Biblical principles in there—minus the confessional about what a lousy judgy mcjudgerton I am. Refer back to #1: Grace is everything.

Finally,

4. "Give what you didn’t get.”

The late comedian, Garry Shandling, wrote this in his journal. Rather than bemoaning the injustices, the pains, the deficits—turn them. DO something about them. And whatever you got/have gotten/are getting that is GOOD: give that…and then some. I think Jesus would be on board with this one.

On behalf of little Nance, 50-year old Nance, and all the Nances in-between: I thank the ALL of you who have tolerated me, hated me, judged me, prayed for me, doubted me, admonished me, learned from me, liked me, laughed with and at me, believed in me, loved me.

It takes an eclectic village, folks.

And from now until my last breath, some part of me will always be the girl with her hands in the air. I certainly hope so. She was a tough nut. She knew who she was.

She still does.

 

 

The Ocean & Kathleen

 

I’m in favor of many things: in the top two on the list are the ocean and comedy. 

When I see and smell the ocean I sometimes weep. I know that sounds maudlin, but I can’t help it. I love home, but being landlocked here is a struggle.

This past weekend my Jim Cox and I went to Florida. It was a tad chilly, but that didn’t damper the beauty of the ocean. I told Jim that seeing the expanse of the ocean always reminds me of the reality of God.

On the other hand, we got to see my favorite comedian, Kathleen Madigan. She is a fellow Missourian and a Catholic who is 1 of 7 kids. The stories she tells remind of how different my 1 sibling Baptist upbringing is from hers. One of my favorite bits is when the nuns told her she ought not to bother Jesus, and made her scooch over in her seat to make room for her guardian angel.

All this to say that the ocean made my heart swell, as did the laughter inspired by Kathleen’s genius. Life can become mundane, but weekends like this (especially with someone you love) breathe life into the ordinary.

Do your best to find what makes the ordinary the exception, not the rule.

That’s all.

Circle around…the tv

 

Circle the wagons. Crazy Bernice beckoned such advice on Designing Women.

I’ve been watching a lot of Designing Women and Golden Girls lately. It takes me back to another time. Television was medicine for me. It still is.

I’ve been thinking of that of late. I wouldn’t survive without my shows. I never could. I can still remember the Dallas theme song from the other room when I was in bed when Mom was still kicking.

When we were smaller, Big Daddy Rowe wouldn’t invest in a VCR. Rather, we were human remotes and I was busy mowing the baseball dorm at Grand and National and the big mound of lawn at our house at age 8. No lie.

So, I missed the shower scene in  which Bobby Ewing returned to life. I was busy mowing. I was devastated.

Ann Rozell came to the rescue. She got us Swensen’s one day and brought us to HER VCR and we got to watch Bobby’s resurrection. I’ll never forget it.

Life is a juxtaposition: the good and the bad. The Facts of Life taught us that. I’m grateful it’s not either one or the other. I’m grateful I’ve a remote, 6 streaming services, a mountain of books, and the freedom to consume it all.

Circle the wagons! We can always regroup. Many thanks to the help of Hollywood. My name is Nancy, and I’m an addict.

John Goodman

 

I’m so pleased to see that John Goodman has honored MSU.

When my brother and I were in college, as Juanita K was being built, we got to take him around campus. In normal Nance fashion, I parked too close to the next car at one place. I said, “oh sir, I apologize! Can I re-park?” As a true gentleman, he slinked out of that Cadillac like a champ. I was mortified.

Years later, Big Daddy Rowe took us to see the fam in LA, to see “Murphy Brown,” (my nirvana), and to see Mr. Goodman at a taping of “Roseanne.” First of all, the episode was about masturbation. I sat next to my parents and watched this business. Imagine my horror. Secondly, that horrible Tom Arnold offered a signed script between scenes if someone would perform. My father nudged me and said, “you can do something!” Never one to disappoint Pops, or to back down from a challenge, the next thing I knew, I was before a theatre audience, belting “God Bless America” like Ethel Merman.

That happened. I got the script.

Afterward, we got to see Mr. Goodman backstage. He said, “that was you?” He was the best.

My life has been full of things you can’t make up. These are a few hot nuggets.

All the love

 

I am a Christian. I’m a sinner. I’ve made some mistakes. But I’m all right. I don’t believe I’ll be burned at the stake. Maybe I should be. But I’ve raised two solid kiddos, I’ve spent some time with wonderful Parkview kids, MSU kids, OTC kids.

I love kids. That’s the stuff. Every day is a delight.

This pic popped up today, as they tend to do on the FB. On the day this was taken, my little angel stood at the edge of my yard as I ran to the church where I vote. She didn’t leave until she saw me running home, at which she lost her mind. She just wanted me back.

What I have learned is that we should VOTE! I’ve also learned the love of dogs, biological children, and  students, makes up for all the rest.

That’s all.

 Hard things

I’ve been thinking about the things that are hard. Adulting is a monster. 

Not hard? Watching the Golden Girls every day.

Hard? Raising the children.

Not hard? Takeout.

Hard? Cooking.

Choose your life. I’m a big fan of raising great kiddos. I’m also a fan of not being in a wreck of a marriage and finding true love with a man named Jim.

Also, Nanny rocked.

Pawpaw

 

October 19, 2022

My Pawpaw Rowe died on this day in 1979. Mom had died that January, my great grandmother, Nanny Great, had died in the interim. I had a hideous bowl cut, and thought, “who is next?” How many more funeral dinners are up?

But my Dad’s father was a tough nut. He had an 8th grade education, and ran a farm. My Pops knew he wanted to not run a farm, but PawPaw never got to see what Poppo did. Dad grew up so poor. I think of what PawPaw would think of things now. He was born in 1901.

Today, I know my Dad has a lump in his throat. He has outlived William Loy Rowe Senior by 3 years now. The takeaway, is that it is good to remember.

It’s also good to remember extra crispy chicken for Baptist funeral dinners. Just saying.