How Facebook has killed the Christmas letter

I have very clear memories of my mother spending hours and hours organizing herself to prepare  Christmas cards for mailing to family and friends. She would camp out at the dinner room or kitchen table for a couple of days and work from her list. 

Each card was selected from her stash with the particular addressee in mind. She would take the time to hand write a note telling the receiver of all the news from the Harty household in the past year. She would hand address each envelope and her one shortcut was the pre-printed return address labels she received from St. Jude's. 

Having this as my role model creates lots of pressure. I can still hear her critical comments when she would receive a Christmas card in return with no personal note. Even worse were the ones where the people would have their names pre-printed on the inside of the card. Lazy people, can't even sign their names. It might even have been an insult for her.

Fast forward to the late 1980's/early 1990's, when it started being trendy to include a Christmas letter with your card. (I think this was acceptable to mom, but at a much lower standard) 

I remember when my friends started sending Christmas letters where they would either outline the many successes of their offspring or the fabulous locations they had traveled that year. Or worse, both. Since I could talk about neither (unless I listed the ice rinks that I had visited in the past year), I would just use my creative writing skills and make them humorous, but still include various tidbits of what I had done in the past year. I did Top Ten lists, I wrote poems. Anything to distract from my semi-pitiful life.

A few years ago, I started doing a Christmas blog (Ye Olde Yule Blog) and would send everyone an email with a link to the blog post. I would claim "green," but honestly it was just so much easier and cheaper. (You don't claim "lazy.")

Now, because of Facebook, I don't even do the Yule Blog. I'm diligent in posting updates, so people can know my every move and thought (and isn't that something everyone wants to know??). And with so many people in my demographic group who are now on Facebook, I think the list of non-Facebook people to whom I would send a card is fairly small.

Regardless of that fact, right now, a bunch of boxes of Christmas cards are stacked on my kitchen island for the non-Facebook list and I'm lacking motivation. I worry if I work on these cards, my resentment might sneak through and I might write something like, "why the heck are you not on Facebook?" or give them a warning that unless they join Facebook, they risk being cut off from receiving highly-valued information about me. I mean, that's got to be a motivating factor, right? 

Walking into the stream

Have you heard the phrase, "you never step into the same stream twice"? As a very non-philosophical person, I think it's a bit lame. For other non-philosophers, it means that, even if things look the same, everything has changed.

Or maybe I think it's a bit lame because I've had to accept its meaning whether I want to or not.

We've all had to accept it at some point in our lives. Those who don't, must live in their own happy, little world. The realization of the truth can be depressing, so denial can kick in.

A great example of this experience happens to most of us in our first year of college. During high school you were part of an awesome group, be it a choir, a band or a sports team. The memories can create a physical feeling of euphoria for you. And you want to go back to the experience and have those feelings again. But you're disappointed when you try and nothing happens. It's not the same group of people or the people who are still there, their lives have changed and moved on.

It's your clue to move on.

I don't know if many people have similar experiences when they're older, but being older doesn't make it easier. I know because I've had to face the facts and move on.

Fifteen years ago, I joined a choir with no clue as to what an amazing experience I was about to have and the people I'd meet who would enrich my life. I had sung in plenty of choirs, but nothing like this one. It was a large choir with almost 100 members in a church with amazing acoustics. The power we would feel when we belted out a song and have it reverberate off the walls for hours 10 seconds just rocked.

The Catholic Church is not known for their strong choral tradition - because they don't have one. This choir was an exception and we were proud of that fact. We cared about each other and I thought of them as my extended family. Christmas and Easter were marathons, but we thrived on them.

In 2006, I had to take a 18-month leave from the choir to work on my master's thesis and the 2008 U.S. Figure Skating Championships (not to mention a full-time job). When I came back in March 2008, I immediately felt like an outsider, an intruder. It can be disconcerting when your expectation was to be able to step back into that stream as if it had been frozen in time.

I tried to reconnect, but it didn't work. Worse, it was affecting my mood, so I realized that it was time to move on. So without any fanfare or goodbyes, I was done.

Last week, the choir was giving a concert and I thought about going. I almost talked myself out of it thinking it would only cause me to be sad. But after getting some encouragement from a friend, I attended the concert.

The choir still is amazing and the music helped put me in the Christmas mood. Although there were many hugs and hellos, nothing was the same. I still felt like an outsider looking in, but it was easier because it was what I had expected.

I could step into the stream and not get swept away.

You'll never understand

You'll never understand because I don't think I even understand why I choose to be a figure skating judge.

Let me be clear, I know that I continue to be a judge because I love the sport and have become friends with people I would never have had the opportunity to meet, if not for being a judge.

What I question is my sanity for wanting to advance as a judge. There are various levels and disciplines for skating judges and to be "promoted" (quotes due to the fact that it is a volunteer position), you have to trial judge.

Trial judging means that you go to a select competition and pretend you're one of the officials judging the event. After the event, you compare your marks to that of the official panel and then talk about what you did within a small group (usually other trial judges) and explain why you did what you did. The discussion is led by a JET.

I won't leave you wondering how airplanes can talk or how we get the plane into the ice rink. JET stands for Judges Education and Training and our upper level judges volunteer to serve as a JET at these select competitions. The right JET can make or break your trial judging experience. I've been fortunate during my experiences to have a great JET 90% of the time. I choose to mentally block out the times when the JET makes you feel like you're a complete idiot or you watch as they rip another trial judge to shreds.

The optimal outcome for a trial judge is to agree with the official panel and have your marks in range with theirs. But you also have to able to defend your decisions. And when you have ADD, that isn't always easy. (short term memory can be impacted by ADD)

I traveled to Ann Arbor this past weekend to trial judge a synchronized team skating competition. Being a Synchro trial judge is a challenge because unlike Singles and Pairs (regular skating for you Muggles), you only have two or three select competitions all year to trial judge while Singles and Pairs usually have 6 or 7.

Trialing can be an emotional roller coaster as you stress about your marks and what you say in post-event discussion. Did I sound like an idiot? What will the JET think of my answer? (generally you pray that the JET doesn't call on you unless you're sure you have the right answer.) If one of your marks is out of range for the official panel, you would be asked to explain.  In other words, please explain what you were thinking during the 20 seconds of an element you saw an hour ago.

It's important to take notes. It is equally important to be able to read your notes when called upon by the JET. "I can't read my writing" or "I don't remember why I did that" are not acceptable answers. I've also learned to admit when I made a mistake.  

It's expensive to trial judge because trial judges have to pay their own travel expenses. Airfare from Minneapolis to Detroit runs between $350-$400 round trip, and a hotel room is about $100 per night. Generally the host club requires trial judges to pay a fee to cover the added expense of having trial judges. I've paid anywhere from $20 to $100 for a two-day competition.

And you don't just do one competition in a season. Oh no, you would generally do two or three competitions in a season if you want to get the promotion before you hit retirement age. So take the afore mentioned costs and multiple them times three. So you have to get creative. I was able to afford this past weekend because I found a last minute $200 roundtrip airfare, I had a friend who let me stay with her in her hotel room, and I split the cost of car rental with another trial judge - she got a killer deal of $35 for the entire weekend.

I had a couple of stressful moments this past weekend after hearing one of the official judges talk about her marks for an event and realizing that I was much lower than her. When I was finally able to see the final results, I was indeed lower than her, but there were 6 judges on the panel and not all of them were as high in their marks.

So I guess I didn't have to drown my sorrows at the bar that night, but it sure felt good.

Home Ownership - NOT!

As of this afternoon, I am no longer a home owner. It was a long and, at times, ridiculous path to sell the condo with more and more hoop jumping requested by the bank.

I've talked about my problems with the bank - classic one hand not knowing what the other hand is doing. And that continued until the very bitter end. 

When I had a viable offer and the bank had finished processing their paperwork (which only took from August to November!!), their lawyers notified me that the bank had ended the foreclosure proceedings and, if the pending sale did fall through, I would be able to do deed-in-lieu-of-foreclosure. Deed-in-lieu is basically just giving them the keys.

Speaking of keys and one hand not knowing blah, blah, blah ... <outstanding transition, eh?>, I got quite the surprise earlier this month. The buyers were going to do a final walk-through with their contractor on November 11th. Brian (my agent) called to ask me if I knew what happened to the lock-box with the keys. It wasn't hanging on the garage door. Ironically, I had discovered it was missing just the day before, but assumed that he had taken the lock-box down because of the sale approval.

I told him not to worry, that I was going to St. Paul the very next day to do a final cleaning of the place (lots of odds and ends left in the condo as well as more than a few condiments in the fridge). I would get a new lock-box, put a set of my keys in it, and would leave it hanging on the garage.

The next day I looked around the complex to see if someone just put the lock-box on someone else's garage by mistake. Nope. So I headed into the building and up the stairs to my condo.

Just looking at the condo door, I immediately knew something was different. The dead bolt and door knob looked far too shiny. Well, my bank and/or their legal minions had cut off the lock-box and changed the locks on the condo door. They would later explain that they were worried about the place since no one was living there.

When I returned to Rochester, I gathered all the remaining keys - building key, garage door key and mail box keys - and sent them to Brian and he contacted the bank to get the new keys. It only took the bank two weeks to figure out which minion had the keys. Brian received them just this morning - the morning of the closing!

I know that I'll miss some parts of being a home owner - going to Home Depot to pick out paint and hanging pictures using whatever method I want - but I'm not going to miss the stress of mortgage payments and condo association dues and having financial decisions that impact me decided by a vote of association members. I'm not going to miss the neighbor who had memorized the association rules and would tattle if you broke any.

I'm done with being a home owner for awhile. Anyone need a room painted?

Misunderstood

I am a member of the most misunderstood, despised, and maligned groups in the world.

I am a figure skating judge.

And while the vitriol about the evil figure skating judges only really comes on strong every four years, it is not an easy life.

Figure skating judges live their lives of quiet desperation in cold, dark places known as ice rinks. We travel as vagabonds from one location to another, following a trail of multi-colored sequins that lead us to the next competition.

We sequester ourselves away from the rest of humanity at the rink since we have accepted the fact that we scare small skaters and, quite often, their parents. We hear their hushed voices, whispering, "That's one of the judges..." as they turn their heads away.

We spend endless hours in ice rinks, sitting rink-side and freezing our patooties off. (I'm certain that there are parts of my anatomy that have perma-frost and may never completely thaw out.)

When our friends discover a wool winter coat in our car on a hot and humid July afternoon, they assume that we're lazy and just never got around to bringing it into the house. The reality is, if you flip open the trunk of most judges' vehicles during any month of the year, you will find boots, wool socks, mittens, gloves, a warm coat and an assortment of fleece blankets with figure skating club logos. We must be ready for service at a moment's notice.

We are volunteers. While we don't get paid, we often receive gift cards (or fleece blankets). At anytime, you can find in our wallets 3 Barnes & Nobles, 2 Caribous, 2 Paneras and a partially used Starbucks.

There are many misconceptions about us. We are not, as a majority, French. Most of us don't own mink coats and the closest we will get to judging the Olympics is yelling at the 53" flat panel TV in the family room.

So please, as I begin my crazy time of year, when I have a competition nearly every weekend from now through spring, be kind to me. And if some Monday morning, you find me wandering around the office with a clip board looking for the judges stand, just tell me the event got canceled and I can go back to the hospitality room. I'll snap out of it eventually.

Bad blogger feeling good about what I did

I'm very much feeling like a neglectful blogger. I haven't posted since September 26th. And there are plenty of reasons excuses for the absence.

My number one excuse is <wait for it now ...> I was distracted. I had a huge skating project that I can honestly say I was ill-prepared for and was basically flying by the seat of my pants. My own stubbornness put me in this position and I had a lot to do that I couldn't delegate to anyone else because I hadn't even figured it out for myself.

When I have something hanging over my head, my focus <at least the very little that I have> goes right out the window. Add to that I was stressing about it, so just as I would get into bed, my brain would fire up and start problem solving while my body wanted and needed sleep. It was bad.

Excuse number two is see excuse number one.

The project was the Minnesota Basic Skills Competition Series. It is for our beginning skaters (you know, those cute little ones with the cute little outfits that make you go, "Aww...") and I took it on because "the powers that be" wanted to make it exclusive instead of inclusive.  I'm not about excluding any club or any skater. I recognize that I wasn't fabulously organized at the start, but eventually things started moving forward. Then, this summer, I got word that the rug was being pulled out from underneath me and I would have to shutter the series after one year.

The final part of the series is the on-ice award ceremony for the skaters in each level who accumulated the most points. Honestly, I think it is the most important part because it's about the kids and only the kids. They get to skate out to the podium just like they see on the Olympics. I placed a medal around their necks and told them what a great job they did and then I would step out of the way so the parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles in the stands could take photos. And boy did they!

But the event is over now with some minor clean-up to do, but most importantly, I felt great at the end because I helped to make some young skaters feel very special and I had parents thank me for doing it. Having a parent thank me? That was huge.

I've heard that the new Basic Skills series (the one replacing the Minnesota Basic Skills series) isn't planning on doing the on-ice awards. They planned to just mail the awards out to the skaters or something. After seeing what it meant to these skaters this past Saturday, I am happy to hear that they are reconsidering it.

Ya gotta take those little victories.