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Tanara McCauley

~ Love Knows Color

Tanara McCauley

Tag Archives: california

Fireworks Fugitive

02 Monday Jul 2012

Posted by tanaramccauley in Faith, Relationships, and Other Topics

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4th of July, bombs, bottle rocket, california, celebration, explode, explosives, fireworks, fugitive, illegal fireworks, light, officer

As the 4th draws near and millions clamor to their neighborhood fireworks stands to buy up the last of anything available, I recall some not so warm and fuzzy memories I’ve had to endure courtesy of my “he-keeps-it-interesting” husband Jon (pictured above with our son and my brother-in-law). His love of holiday explosives is, to put it mildly, something of a contradiction to his otherwise law-abiding, God-fearing disposition. The trouble lies in the fact that he likes to hear them BOOM, or see them fly, or both; all of which is illegal in California where we lived when most of the incidents occurred. While a dozen events come to mind, I’ll name my top four:

  1. We stopped in a parking lot on our way to dinner with my sisters and brothers-in-law. The women didn’t realize what was going on until the first aerial shot up in the sky. The men lit off about seven more to the chorus of three shrill, nagging voices, then got us out of there just as the spotlight of a helicopter began scanning the vicinty.
  2. Jon went down the street to a friend’s to show off some souvenirs he’d bought in Hawaii. I knew what the souvenirs were as soon as I heard sounds so loud the rest of the neighbors were probably scrambling to remember bomb drills from grade school. When the noise stopped and he didn’t come back, I went outside to see what was going on. He and his friends were sitting on the curb like a bunch of sad-faced knuckleheads while an officer lectured them on their juvenile behavior.
  3. Jon and my brother-in-law lit some of the same “bombs” from example 2 in front of my parents’ house. They were all smiles and laughter until the dust cleared and left in its wake my unhappy mother. Let’s just say the officer was a cake-walk.
  4. “Someone” let off a bottle rocket at a fireworks show. Though I didn’t see him do it, Jon was the lucky fellow approached by a red-faced, muscle bound man ready to rip his head off because said rocket whizzed by his group. When the man couldn’t get anything more than the trademark smile my husband wears with every emotion, he threatened Jon by proclaiming, “You know I’m a cop.” To which Jon smugly replied, “Yeah, me too.”

Most fireworks that are illegal in California are legal in other states. And though Jon always bought them legally in other states, some always seemed to find their way home before exploding, hence the many brushes with the law. But years have passed and kids have been born since those days, which have made for a more responsible, yet still just as interesting man; though he still grins like a fox in a chicken coop when the kinds he likes light up the sky or threaten to break the sound barrier.

What are some of your favorite fireworks escapades or 4th of July memories? Do you prefer fireworks shows, or lighting your own? I’m eager to hear about it.

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Sounds like Thunder…Oklahoma Style!

21 Monday May 2012

Posted by tanaramccauley in Faith, Relationships, and Other Topics

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basketball, Bryant, buzzer, california, championship, clench, game, Horry, Kings, Kobe, L.A., L.A. Lakers, Los Angeles, Okie, Oklahoma, Sacramento, series, shot, Thunder, victory

I gave up following professional basketball nearly ten years ago. Why? I suffered a heartbreak that still pinches whenever the memory is dredged up.

May 26, 2002.

The Sacramento Kings – my home team – were closer than they’d ever been to the championship round. They were leading the hated Lakers 2-1 in the series, and were seconds away from a coveted third win. I was tied to that game in every conceivable way; not just hoping we would finally pull one out, but already anticipating how over-the-top our victory celebrations would be.

Then out of nowhere, Robert Horry landed a clench three (after the buzzer, which everyone but a Laker fan will admit to) and stole the win. That shot turned the tide not only on that game, but also on the momentum of the Kings rise from obscurity into stardom. It was like losing a loved one. A loss I wouldn’t endure again by choice.

So why involve myself now? Why peek around the corner and watch snippets of the Thunder/Laker games and dare excite myself over the possibility that the Thunder may actually do this? Especially when it looks all too familiar: the underdog team, the high stakes…Kobe.

Because the Thunder represent that much underrated, beautiful state where I was born and spent my summers. Because I know when I cheer for them, I’m cheering with thousands of Oklahoma natives, and Natives, who have long endured the Okie, Okie Doke, and Okie from Muskogee jokes. And because they are a reincarnation of the hopes I had for that team in small town California.

While I’m not back to buying season tickets, donning sports regalia, collecting programs and ticket stubs, and shouting encouragements from the stands, this Oklahoma native has pitched her flag. I stand with the roaring Thunder fans cheering at this very moment in the arena: Beat L.A.! Beat L.A.! Beat L.A.!

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The Scorpion Chronicles – First Encounter

11 Friday May 2012

Posted by tanaramccauley in The Scorpion Chronicles

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arizona, bark, california, chronicles, creature, dropping in, encounter, harmful, scorpion, venemous, writing

When most people hear the term “Just dropping in,” they think of an unexpected knock at the door by a familiar face. At worst, they’re inconvenienced by the need to go throw on something decent and kick items under the couch. No one associates the phrase with a scorpion landing on your head, then getting a running start to jump off your shoulder and scuttle into the closet before you can even register what’s happening.

I do.

We’d lived in Arizona two years by then and I had never even seen a picture of a scorpion, let alone a real one. Talk about a memorable introduction.

I wish I could say my reaction was reasonable. I should be able to say that. A woman who’s driven cross-country alone, single-handedly changed the spark plugs in her first car (a gray Grand-Am named Diane), taken many a charge on the basketball court, and who’s got a battle plan for intruders that could arguably scare your pants off if you knew it – that woman should not be afraid of a bug no larger than her big toe.

Nevertheless, that woman (who should be transitioning out of third person by now) had an all-out-fit!

Forget that the scorpion was long gone. Once my body registered that it had actually touched me, I couldn’t have stopped the flailing limbs, shrieks, and shoulder jerks if I wanted to. That’s not the worst of it. When my toddler twins came running to see what all the fuss was about, I threw my body sacrificially in front of them as if the whole room were crawling with venomous insects. I know. By the time my kids are all grown and out of the house I’ll have a resume long enough to get me instantly cast as female lead in a drama.

The twins remained calm (to the discredit of their mother), curiously peering around me like rubberneckers on the freeway trying to get a glimpse of whatever answered to the shrieky call of, “Scorpion! Scorpion!”

Breathing like I’d had a wrestling match with the thing, I finally composed myself enough to pull my phone out of my pocket and text my husband: “There’s a scorpion in the house.” It’s pathetic but I did fully expect him to drop everything at work to come save us.

His response? A very delayed, “Kill it.”

I sooooo was not happy with him at that moment. He of all people should know that his capable wife turns into a useless girly girl when there are bugs involved, though not utterly useless. I went instantly to Plan B. I called our pest control company, put on my sweetest trembly voice, conjured up a plea that would have appealed to the hardest heart (especially the bit about the small, helpless children) and had a technician to our house within fifteen minutes. There’s that acting skill again :-).

Turns out scorpions are multi-talented creatures themselves. Though I’d done a quick search and found nothing out of the ordinary but what looked like a tan piece of chewed gum in the closet corner, the technician instantly identified that gum as the scorpion. They’re able to fold themselves up and give off the appearance of a harmless blob. If that doesn’t make your skin itch!

The tech left with the blob/scorpion, but not before informing me that it was the most venomous kind in our region – the bark. Very harmful to small children and elderly adults. Oh how wonderful!

I got suited and booted as we native Californians call it (geared up for the task at hand) and got busy. Dressed from head to toe in thick clothing (with just the skin on my face exposed underneath my ball cap), I emptied every drawer, went through every pocket, turned out every sock, shook out every toy – you get the picture – looking for any kids, cousins, or extended family members the scorpion may have left behind.

I didn’t find any. But something about that first encounter let me know it wouldn’t be my last.

And since this is “The Scorpion Chronicles,” it obviously wasn’t. Four years and a refusal-from-my-husband-to-relocate later, you may wonder if my ability to handle these encounters has improved. I’m chuckling just thinking about it. Follow along and you be the judge.

Courtesy of my fearless husband This one was fished out of the pool already dead. My husband just couldn’t resist playing with it.

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