It's a Rube Goldberg kinda life!

A Rube Goldberg machine is one of those crazy things that starts with one small thing like a domino falling that sets off a chain of reactions, each one crazier than the last until the end result is reached. If you want to see a really good example of one check out this one a friend sent me the link to on YouTube.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qybUFnY7Y8w

As I watched this video I got to thinking about how life (mine at least) can seem like a Rube Goldberg contrivance at times. Here are two examples from my own life.

The Rube Goldberg machine that moved me to NH:
 
1. My mother demanded fresh ground pepper at restaurants and God help us all if they couldn't deliver!
2. I visit a small gourmet store searching for a personal sized pepper mill to give my mom.
3. The ladies who own the place and I hit it off and they hire me to work part time.
4. The owner's husbands both work at a company my husband has been unsuccessfully trying to get an interview at for over a year.
5. My bosses talk with their husbands and my husband gets an interview.
6. My husband is hired by said company.
7.  A couple years later the company ends up moving from Vermont to New Hampshire and here I am!



The Rube Goldberg machine that got me married:

1. A college friend buys a pet boa constrictor (Doc).
2. After college she and I become roommates for a year and I get to live with Doc too.
3  A couple years later she has an opportunity to travel abroad and needs a sitter for Doc.
4. I agree to babysit the snake and end up having him for over a year.
5. The snake eats mice which I must go to a pet store to purchase.
6. In the pet store there are a pair of love birds.
7. After months of seeing the love birds I decide I want to buy them, but only if I can find the perfect cage (In my mind's eye some fancy Victorian confection was what I was after.)
8. I go to an antique store in search of a cage.
9. The owner of the antique store becomes my husband even though he did not have the cage I was searching for and I never got the love birds.


Here is what I think.You might have some fun looking back on some key events in your own life and investigating the chain of events that led up to them.

My Dad in the Eternal City...

                    ( My Dad in back, his brother and sister in front)

4/14/10

I remember as a young kid asking my dad what he thought happened to us when we die. He said he didn't believe in Heaven or Hell. He believed any afterlife we might have was in the memories we had left behind of us in others.

My dad passed away a year ago today. I have lit the yahrzeit candle and thought of the many memories I have of him. There are a lot, and happily they are mostly good ones with many that I consider stellar. I only want to share one today, and it has been hard to choose which one.

In 1967 or 1968 when I was 16 (December baby) my parents took me on a 2 week tour of London, Paris and Rome. My mom was recovering from cancer and the primitive forms of chemo and cobalt therapy that were available back then. Our first stop was Paris. We arrived at early evening and our luggage got held up at the airport. Mom was understandably tired and encouraged my dad to take me out to absorb some nightlife since we couldn't even unpack. This became our SOP when we arrived in Rome and London as well. Dad would take me out and mom would rest up a bit.

When we got to Rome it was again early evening. Rome was dad's favorite city of the three and he was itching to get out into it and show it all to me. My father was an even tempered guy for the most part. To see him so passionate and excited about Rome was a memorable experience in itself. We walked down the Via Veneto for a while and then he hailed a cab. The driver spoke only Italian and dad and I only English. Through a very energetic series of pantomimes my dad got the driver to understand that we wanted to see all the wonderful sites/sights of Rome.

The driver quickly entered into the spirit and took us first to the Coliseum. We got out and walked around in it for a while. It was all lit up and took my breath away. When we got back in the cab the driver gestured at the Coliseum and said, "Molto bella!" Well, even dad and I could figure that out and dad responded enthusiastically and again pantomimed that we wanted to see all that was molto bella! So we spent the next few hours driving all over Rome with the three of us shouting "Molto Bella!!" at the top of our lungs. It was a magical evening to say the least. Yep, definitely a stellar memory of my dad.

My guess is I am the only one living with that memory now; the driver was not a young man.

Here is what I think. I love you dad, and I will always remember.