Say Cheese, Mini-Horse

Today Jeremy & I received our wedding photos in the mail...well, at least we thought we did.  We used an online service, and ordered some photos to go in our thank-you cards, a few 8x10's, and one of each picture in the 4x6 size.  I opened the box carefully, full of anticipation to view our special day in print.

The first packet of pictures I opened had a blonde little boy in the first photo.  I was puzzled, especially since we had an adult-only wedding.  Then as I browsed through the rest of them, I realized we were sent the wrong pictures!  Instead of seeing my groom & me celebrating our love, we had about 200 pictures of someone else's children.

Naturally, I looked through all of them, curious to see how these strangers live and to see what they find important enough to photograph and print.

First of all, these people have/know dozens of different kids.  There were kids at birthday parties, kids dressed up in costumes, kids at petting zoos.  And they seemed to all be different children.  My favorites were the petting zoo photos, in which these nameless children interacted with little goats and mini horses.  There was even a picture of a goat's butt, so I'm glad to see this photographer at least has a sense of humor.  There were also numerous, and I mean numerous, pictures of a man and different children being pulled by a mini-horse in a cart.  This poor creature, I thought, works day in and day out to tote kids around--and not even as transportation, but just for fun.

After I looked through enough photos to feel slightly inappropriate, Jeremy sent a quick email to the company, and our real pictures are now on their way in the mail.  I am just left to wonder who these mystery people are, and if they in turn possibly received our wedding photos.  I like to imagine them anticipating seeing a goat's anus, and seeing me instead.

Radio

Every morning on my way to work, I love listening to our local "oldies" radio station- 99.3 out of Sturgis, Michigan.  The morning DJs are entertaining and I rarely hear a song I dislike.  Usually within my twenty minutes or so of tuning in, I hear good, wholesome banter, a pun or two, and a list of local and celebrity birthdays.  By the time I pull into the parking lot of my place of employment, I think to myself, "I wonder if they have any job openings there."  It always seems like it would be a fun place to work--full of friendly people who take turns bringing in muffins and donuts, who meet up at some bar every Friday after clocking out.

Maybe it's not like that at all.  For all I know the DJs can't stand each other, and everyone that works there pulls into the parking lot thinking, "I wonder if there are any job openings at                   ."  Still, I like to imagine it as a wonderful place.

It all makes me wonder where radio is headed.  With I-tunes, satellite radio, and Internet radio stations, I am concerned about the future of local radio stations.  I like when people call into the station and reference a place I know.  And I like when a person's name comes up on the birthday list, and the DJ knows him/her from high school.  It is personal, and in my generation, little is personal anymore.

For some reason, when I listen to the oldies station, I imagine my parents listening to the same songs when they were new, and I wonder what they were doing and thinking at that time in their lives.  So in that twenty-minute drive to work, a radio station manages to become a time machine.

My On-Again, Off-Again Relationship with Unsolved Mysteries

I was first introduced to Unsolved Mysteries as a young child in the late 80's.  One night a week, my mom would go bowling, leaving my brother, sister, and me home with our father.  Dad would always watch TV, and since we didn't really care for Dad's taste in shows, we usually found other ways to entertain ourselves.  Jimmy, a teenager at the time, was typically out with friends, watching sports in his room, or playing his baseball card/dice game.  My sister and I would play with Barbies or make up dance routines to George Michael songs.

Sometimes we would hang out with Dad in the living room, which first exposed me to Unsolved Mysteries.  As a  five-six-seven year old, I was often frightened by the spooky intro music and the ominous voice of its trench-coated host, Robert Stack.  Stack always seemed to be lurking in some foggy, dark, abandoned street, as he set the stage for each segment.  Some episodes were boring--bank robbers on the run, pilots who had gone missing in the Bermuda Triangle--but others fascinated me, and left me pondering them for days on end.

I was particularly vexed by the alien abduction/UFO segments.  This led to an overpowering, abnormal fear that gave me insomnia, and caused my mom--who probably wouldn't have allowed me to watch such nonsense, had she been home-- to wonder what had caused such a phobia.  For years I imagined being pulled from my bedroom window into a hovering disc, and then experimented on by grey beings with black, almond-shaped eyes.  I even remember watching an episode of Married with Children in which Al Bundy was visited by an alien creature, upon which I buried my face into the couch cushion waiting for it to go to commercial.

photo: sharetv.com

I was also afflicted by the Bigfoot/ghost/Loch Ness/crop circle segments, often hoping the word "UPDATE" would flash on the screen to inform us that the mystery had indeed been solved, and was found to be one big elaborate hoax.

But of course that was never the case.

Now in my late twenties, I still watch the updated re-runs presented by the Lifetime Network.  The footage that once haunted me as a child no longer leads to sleepless nights, and I love seeing the 1980's clips still being used, even though Robert Stack has been replaced.  Of course, many of the criminals once profiled have either been captured or have died, but the "Unexplained" segments are always still open ended.

I suppose I will continue to watch, until someone is able to solve the mystery.

photo: tvrage.com