Making a Wish

09/26/2005

Monday

The “Redemption” theme of this blog has gotten precious little airplay, compared to the “Reality” part of it. Perhaps that may change.

I did it. I submitted my wish, along with several hundred other people. You can also submit a wish online, which I also did. But I also delivered it in person.

The first phase of this operation was actually picking and writing my wish out. That alone is a worthy exercise, which I highly recommend. The folks at Three Wishes (or 3W) are looking for wishes that are heaertfelt. They also exclude homes and home rennovations since this television concept is already getting plenty of airplay. You only get one, and selection is based upon the worthiness of the potential recipiant as well as the wish itself. You can submit one for yourself, a loved one/friend/relative or an entire community.

Jaunt over to Unlicited Advice and follow the link and submit yours. Or leave one in the comment section. Or both.

There was a light sprinkle as the line meandered through the center of town. I was a bit nervous about this, but gamely joined the line of hopeful wishers. Upon entering the line a group of associate producers were handing out clipboards with the release form and a form to write the wish on. Upon close inspection of the release, I was even more nervous. The word “exploitation” kept popping up. As in everything NBC got on you, or could obtain about you in the process of investigating and filming became their property to be used for their exploitation for as long as tbey wanted in whatever way they saw fit. They could exploit your name, your likeness, your story and about anything else for whatever purpose. That is a bit scary.

But I still signed. Even people coming just for tickets to the concert had to sign, and the back of the tickets had the same ominous waiver of all rights included. They were going to be filming the concert, as well, apparently. One exploitation deserves another, I suppose. So I’ll just exploit this experience for my and your entertainment.

I folded my wish and the release and put it in the envelope and waited in the long line. The film crews wasted no time in beginning their exploitation as they wheeled the boom camera around filming the long line.

The line moved slowly toward a group of tents where they were filming people and their wishes. As we got closer, excitment picked up a bit as Amy Grant herself came out and interviewed some people herself. She was dressed casually in some designer blue jeans and a top similar to one Tajalude had mentioned in one of her posts awhile back. Maybe they have a psychic connection. In anycase, Ms. Amy is a very fine looking 44 year-old. Surrounded by the lights and cameras, she was definitely the center of attention. She appeared very relaxed, talking to the folks from around town. Twenty years after recording Age to Age, she is still as stunning as she ever was.

Our line crept to the row of tents, and after over two hours I was almost there. A crew member had our line wheel around and drew a crowd around the main tent so they could get a crowd/mob shot. The result was that we lost our place in line. The lady behind me about lost it. She found another staff member and complained.

For my part, I had mixed feelings at the prospect of being interviewed on camera. While being around the filming was exciting, I was not up for the bright lights. It got alot more real as were close enough that we could see and hear the director in the tent, loudly giving instructions to everyone.

“PLACES! EVERYONE STANDBYE! SETTLE! ROLL!”

I should’ve brought my own camera.

I couldn’t do it. There was no way I was going to stand in front of a potential national audience and proclaim my marriage a train wreck in need of help the likes of that FEMA has yet to see. So I handed my envelope to a crew member and walked away. Other folks were doing likewise, but those I had shared the line with gave me a disappointed “Awww! You’re so close!”

True. But it says right on the release form that those who are not interviewed will not necessarily be excluded from having their wish granted. Truth be known, the three wishes that will be televised were selected before the crew hit town. They apparently intend on granting more than just those three, though. Or at least that’s what the press release said.

It was a memorable experience, all around and I did get 4 tickets to the concert. It’s on a school night so it’s not known if we’ll be able to go. The boys may not be up for a long night of loudness, even if it is Amy Grant. I’d like to go, but it would be counter productive to my wish to not have the family there with me, in the unlikely event they picked mine.

When I got home, Arwen asked me what my wish was. I had an extra copy printed out and gave it to her to read. She started reading it and then took it to the other room so that she could cry. I guess I hit the “heartfelt” part, at least where she is concerned. I’ll tack on an edited version below.

While it is comparatively easy with you all, me being pseudo-anonymous and all, doing it on-camera was a frightening reality that I was not quite ready to face, especially considering the odds were not in my favor to even have the wish granted. Still, the process was instructive. While in line, I saw folks pushing wheelchairs, and others bringing their young children and I knew that there were a lot of well deserved wishes out there. Even with the rich promise of exploitation, NBC couldn’t possibly grant them all. I admire the efforts of Amy Grant and the producers of the show to attempt to make a difference in communities around the country.

D.

The Letter:

Dear Three Wishes,

My main wish is to have a better and more intimate relationship with my wife, Arwyn. That’s a tall order, even for Hollywood. My wife and I have been married for 9 years, with our 10th anniversary coming up in August of 2006. We have two children. Thomas, age 6 and Elmo, age 3. Thomas has an autism spectrum disorder, but he is doing extremely well. Elmo has not been diagnosed with any disorders but has shown signs of delays.

I would not characterize or marriage as very strong, but we are both strong people and are both good Christians. But we seem to struggle with each other. The stress of raising the boys, one who has special needs, has strained both of us and we have no family close by for help or support. We are both a bit on the proud side which makes even a letter like this one difficult. We are not good at asking for help.

Arwyn stays home with the boys and I work with children who have severe physical, emotional and mental disabilities. We are far from rich but we have been able to get by. But just getting by does not afford us any extras.

We have not done counseling mainly because of cost and we haven’t found anyone to watch the boys. We have not had a weekend away without kids since Thomas was born, almost 7 years ago. And we are struggling to keep our family intact.

I am not going to go into all the details of exactly how we are struggling here, but our marriage is a ship foundering at sea, and heading for the reef. I love my children and I want to realize the deep, intimate relationship with my wife that I dreamed of 9 years ago. I’ve tried everything I know how to do, and even many things I don’t know how to do in order to turn things around. It hurts me to think that this may be our last ditch effort. I am sending up the proverbial flare and sending out an S.O.S.

Can you help us?

We thought going on a cruise would be helpful (hence the nautical hyperbole) but we really need more than just a vacation. We need real and substantial help. If Dr. Phil was available, maybe he could join us on a voyage. Or we could join him.

If I had one wish, it would be that I would never have had to make this one. But since I do, this is as close as I can get to my heart’s desire.

All my prayers,

Digger Jones

Back in the Tent

Back in the Tent

Arwyn is jealous. “Of who?” you might ask.

Of you.

She has no idea of who you are, but there is an awareness that my time and mind are spent elsewhere. She sees me reading my PDA and occasionally writing on it. My time on the computer isn’t as much because I can copy and paste my favorite reads onto my flash card fairly quickly and then read when and where I want. She has, in fact, come to richly dislike this thing.

Can’t blame her. Much. I mean this is where I go to vent, to share, to complain and to generally hobnob with a virtual playgroup. I vent my heart here and sometimes my spleen. You have all been mostly supportive. Afterall, you generally do the same thing. So there is a sort of intimate reciprocity in this place that I simply have not been able to find in my own house. If it were available, I would seek it there. In fact, much of this blog has been devoted to my attempts at getting it. But my strength and my will fail me.

The subtheme of the cage was one such attempt. As time goes on, a gulf seperates Arwyn and I. It gets deeper and wider as time goes on. The wider the chasm, the more frightening the prospect of swimming, bridging or jumping it becomes. The obstacle becomes too formidible. The cage provided the energy boost and the imperative I needed to get to the other side. As Satan once put it, I got so jizzed up, that I would do anything. And she is also the one to point out that without me making an effort, it was not going to happen. Arwyn has yet to reach out to me in trying to traverse these obstacles. Sometimes she hides behind them. Getting jizzed up enough turned me into some sort of relational Incredible Hulk, bashing down these barriers. “Don’t make me horny. You won’t like it if you make me horny!”LOL!

So there is no meeting half-way, here. Unless I am willing to carry the load (figuratively and literally) and go the entire distance, things only deteriorate further. And, yes, it does have an adverse effect on the boys.

This morning, she said it would be okay if our oldest camped out with me. He was So looking forward to it, and so was I. He only quit talking about it sometime early afternoon. So, Arwyn gave the boys their baths, and then proceeded to put them to bed. Huh? I reminded her that we had planned on camping out and she said no, with an obscene amount of hostility in her voice. As she made herself a bowl of cereal, I persued her, asking her what the deal was. She was mad at me about several things, among them not spending enough time with the boys.

“So you’re mad at me about not spending enough time with them, so when I want to spend time with them, you’ll say no.;

“Yeah, something like that.”

Egad.

Her other greivance happens to be that I haven’t applied to the Three Wishes people. Yeah. She pointed out that I should do it because I’m the better writer. Maybe so, but there is some inborn objection I have to her pimping out my writing ability. Maybe that is totally silly.

Alright, I’ll give it a shot. But she may not like it. But Hollywood might.

D.

My Wish

09/25/2005

Sunday

On Unsolicited Advice I breifly give coverage of a show that is being filmed in towns around the country, where wishes were granted.

To answer my own question, I decided that I would wish for a 3 or 4 night cruise with Arwyn, sans children. Preferably a cruise put on by Dr. Phil…or the Sex Dectives. We have not had a kid-free overnight for the past 7 years, since having children. And you all are witnesses to the ensuing disintegration of our marriage. A year or so ago we did attend a little marriage-type seminar put on by our church. It was very, very light in content consisting mostly of a game show format.

One exercise involved recalling a memorable time we had together. I can’t even remember what ours was. I think it was when we went back to Iowa for Christmas a couple years ago, and the boys had a chance to meet their cousins for the first time. Other couples also mentioned trips, and always it was some memory of getting away without the kids. We have no experiences like that, so no memories.

Another exercise at that church seminar was to share a time or something that we admired about our spouse. Most couples mentioned something about being a good father or mother. One guy did say that his wife was good in bed! I said that Arwyn had a gentle and giving spirit, which is generally true. I also mentioned that she was a budding amatuer photographer.

Arwyns contribution? That afternoon, hours before going to this thing, I had bought and assembled materials for a compost bin. And that was what she said. That I built a compost bin. A compost bin was built by me. That was what she most admired about me. That I hammered together a container for rotting garbage. Probably with some thought of me winding up there eventually. Actually, she probably was surprised that I might be able to use power and hand tools to make something even as simple as that.

Still, it would have been nice if she put just a bit more thought into it. She could have said something to the effect that when it comes to the food she puts into her mouth, I have everything to do with it, and she has little. I either buy it or I grow it. Then I process it, where processing is needed in the way of cleaning, freezing, picking or shelling. Then I actually cook it. Those of you who actually do this on a daily basis know that this is a challenge simply because it is done on a daily basis. Within hours of the last meal you have to go through the process again. But not everyone has the ability (or desire) to grow their own stuff. The compost bin was just a small part of the entire process that would be readily apparent to someone willing to reach back in their memories more than a couple of hours.

Incidently, the compost bin wasn’t really even a compost bin. I decided to make another raised bed, using one end for compost while putting the other half in production.

In anycase, we are in sore need of a good memory, which means a good experience together is what I would wish for.

D.