Morning Dad's Wedding Recap

Good Morning,

Some of you may be wondering how things went this weekend at "Morning Dad" and Judy's wedding.

Well...I went in with the best of intentions to document the occasion but when the wedding hour hit my keen powers of observation had been significantly altered. I discovered 30 minutes of standing in the direct sunlight...in the hot summer heat...in all my wedding finery turns the brain to mush...i could only give the blow by blow of "how to survive" an endurance event...

So, I did not want to disappoint. I've used the New York Times "Weddings & Style" section and other Internet sources to come up with a wedding write-up to give you an idea of how the day went.

Vallo-Mount

On June 28 about 50 guests, many covered in tattoos and at least one wearing an electronic monitoring bracelet, watched, riveted, as Mr. Vallo and Judy Mount exchanged wedding vows, in the courtyard of the Troy Hayner Cultural Center, Troy, OH.

The Rev. from Rotary Club, an interfaith minister, joined the very pregnant bride, and her bridegroom and 'the new life being created.' (whoops, that's DEFINITELY noooot right!!!)

At the appointed hour, the coming of the bridal party was announced to the assembled guests by the strains of "God Bless This Broken Road," which was played by Miss Gussie and Miss Nettie Henry on the sweet toned violins.

The bride chose to wear a gold and ivory broomstick skirt, gold metallic vest, matching accessories and carried a bouquet of white roses with greenery and gold and white streamers. The altar was decorated with a white 15-branch candelabra adorned with red poinsettias, greenery, and white netting.

After being pronounced as a couple, Steve (Mr. Vallo) actually physically built two rowboats and rowed Judy and the guests around the Pond after the ceremony to the reception held at the Troy Country Club...where was held a "moving dinner."

okay, okay, it's starting to come back to me. that's not exactly how it went. just FYI. the basics: Dad and Judy were married Saturday, 6:30pm (as the 2nd hand of the clock was on the upswing) at the Troy Hayner Cultural Center. Judy was attended by her three sons Rick, Randy, and Ron while a very nervous Steve was supported (almost physically at times) by his two outstanding children Amanda and Eric. There was a double ring exchange and accompaniment in song by a very full-voiced lady with a loudspeaker. Birds of all variety were also in attendance, especially one very industrious cardinal. Miss Vallo, the Best Woman, bobbed and weaved in the summer heat, her brother sweat, and there was a fine shine of sunlight beaming off the grooms head but no one went down. Judy wore an ivory wispy, v-neck dress with pleasant looking sleeves. Her hair was pretty and well-formed. Flowers were white and pink roses.

The reception was held at the Troy Country Club and included a fine spread. Little ones munched on pizza, chicken fingers, nachos, while adults enjoyed an open bar (partee!) and grazed heartily at food stations of pasta, carnivore offerings (turkey, beef tips), and delicious grilled vegetables and hummus. The cake was chocolate with white icing!

After a most magnificent toast from the handsome, quick-witted, and eloquent, Best Man, Mr. Eric Vallo, the Vallo Family Singers entertained and welcomed the Mount family with a melody of song: "A Toast (to all who gather here)," "Let Me Call You Sweetheart," and "Tell Me Why."

Sadly, there was no DJ for a proper set of tribute dancing to my favorite dancer of all time Michael Jackson. The music was provided by the strong voiced woman from the wedding ceremony who played "mingling music." Finally, a very smitten and gracious host, the groom Mr. Vallo thanked his guests and twinkled-toed his new bride to a waltz across the dance floor. Everybody clapped and boy was I ready to go home.

It was a lovely evening.

Happy Monday,
Amanda

p.s. I promise pictures as soon as I'm able to get some

48 hour dance challenge

Good Morning,

I've been on a little bit of a dance hiatus but the beat never stops! Recently, a good friend of mine in NYC (hellooo Eva!) passed along this challenge from the Dance Films Association.

"On Friday July 17, 2009, DFA challenges you to read, hear or see the news of that day, decide right then what resonates with you and e-mail us what moves you, and then create a dance film inspired by that in 48 hours."

Ever the "new next hip hop dancer!" I thought i'd give it a shot. Before i enter the contest though, i though i should practice. I woke up June 16th and picked through the news of the day. The item that "resonated" with me was a post on the website Hip Hop DX. Here "Remy Ma" a female rap/hip hop artist had posted a letter to her fans...http://www.hiphopdx.com/index/news/id.9309/title.remy-ma-pens-letter-from-prison. I've created a "special" dance based on my reaction to this letter...in roughly 48hrs.

Happy Monday,

Amanda

p.s. mitty's touring now. she does improv.

Dance Films Association 48 hr. Challenge from Amanda Vallo on Vimeo.

The "Tweaked" Letter (Remy's letter translated through a SCI experience)

I always find myself thinking about what I was doing a year ago, two years ago, five years ago today. I never remember exactly where till I find myself imagining where I would be today. I rarely play adapted sports because it’s sort of depressing. Not being able to run is stressful not because I’m a runner but because being an athlete that was my way of venting and expressing myself. So I run on an elliptical machine a lot! So much that now I have a purple toenail from my toe jamming into the toe box of my kicks! I guess I got used to the pain.


I get a lot of questions from good Samaritans and everyone asks me how I’m doing? I say fine, the way I see it I never imagined making it this far with my sanity. Not being able to go somewhere when you want, seeing your family A LOT (i.e., on many occasions when you don’t need to), can't hold the phone, take a shower, wear clothes, or even eat like you want - super aggravating. Whenever, which is almost everyday I get looks, a lot of kids ask questions. It’s something that I used to do almost enjoy everyday but now it actually feels weird, I really feel like an inmate.
And as much as I hate to admit it, I really am an inmate. I mean, it kind of grows on you when certain people go out of there way to make you feel like that.


They have this thing called spinal cord injury they keep asking me to join. It’s people that bring others with SCI into the community to show them what it’s like to keep living. I hear that every group asks about me but I’m a little hesitant to join. They think it will give others a reality check that this can happen to anyone. I however feel that it’ll be more strangers wanting to see the freak in the wheelchair and because of that they won't get that I'm actually a person. So I'm still contemplating. If I figure out a way for them to actually get it, that this is really not a place you would ever want to be whether for 8 years, 8 months, or 8 minutes then I’ll do it.

Everyone with a disability isn't a victim but everyone in a chair isn't a hero either. So whether you end up with a SCI “for a reason” or by accident, the pain you’re feeling is still the same. And I can quote a lot "others” by saying that “I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy…”

Forever rollin’ A-lo"

an almost Anita Baker sighting

Good Morning,

In a darker moment you may have asked yourself this question: “What would I do if I couldn’t move?” That is, what if after a wild night of break dancing you ended up in the ER with only the ability to shrug your shoulders and say "yes, I really shouldn’t have gone for the head-spin."

Good thing I am here for you this morning because I have answers! : )

The year was 1991. I was 15 years old and lay on my back staring up at the ceiling. I knew these three things: I have a spinal cord injury, I need surgery, and it’s going to be a long time before I go home. I kind of understood I was in the hospital’s ICU. I kind of understood the doctors and nurses were there to not hurt but help. Perhaps it goes without saying, but my truest and most immediate experience was this: torture! The lack of sensory input, disorientation to time of day, sleeplessness, inability to escape pain…I grasped for any moment of relief. Typically, this came in the form of some compassionate nurse or staff member passing my room. Reduced to “nothingness” I’d yell out the door. “Hey, hey! Could you come talk to me?” Sometimes they would (or at least drop a concerned message at the nurses’ station). Other times, a harried schedule or fear wouldn’t allow it. One particular night, after this had been going on for a week?...my mom prepared to leave for the night and offered a simple solution. She had brought my Walkman from home and a few of my favorite cassette tapes. At this time, any item brought in from the outside world felt odd. It was as if she had brought in an artifact from her trip to the moon (not my bedroom at home) but I thought I was willing to try. I let her put the headphones on me and put in a tape. The suggestion that this was going to make life better felt rude and absurd-- Do these people really think a little Enya is going to make this okay?

That’s the truth! Enya did not. But ANITA BAKER!!!! did. At least for the simple moment, Anita’s “Compositions” (4th album) and her soulful contralto took me away. For several minutes a night, Anita and I would sing duets “No one to blame,” “Whatever it takes,” and occasionally when the tape was rewound just right Anita would intone “Talk to me” [lyrics] What’s wrong/wrong with you/why don’t you tell me what you’re going through?” Today with a different ear I can understand the smoldering significance of these sophisticated lyrics but I will always love them for much simpler reasons-they gave me reason to live. Anita held the torture at bay.
This is why this weekend I was so jazzed to be heading to Grosse Pointe, Michigan. The reason for the trip was to see Eric and Elly's new home. A little known fact: Grosse Pointe is also the home of ANITA BAKER!!!!

So...I was also hoping for an ANITA BAKER sighting! : )
There was no Anita sighting. I actually didn’t even look up her address…feels a bit too much like stalking. : ( What I was able to get was an "almost" Anita sighting. : ) That is, I have a first person account of Elly’s almost running into Anita Baker…outside a Rite Aid...awesome.

http://homepage.mac.com/amv12/iMovieTheater59.html


Happy Monday,

Amanda

p.s. Love You To the Letter! That's no Fairy Tale! : )

Anita Baker I heart you!...

Good Morning,

In a darker moment you may have asked yourself this question: “What would I do if I couldn’t move?” That is, what if after a wild night of break dancing you ended up in the ER with only the ability to shrug your shoulders and say yes I really shouldn’t have gone for the headspin.

Good thing I am here for you this morning because I have answers!

The year was 1991. I was 15 years old and lay on my back staring up at the ceiling. I knew these three things: my neck is broken, I need surgery, and it’s going to be a long time before I go home. I kind of understood I was in the hospital’s ICU. I kind of understood the doctors and nurses were there to not hurt but help. Perhaps it goes without saying, but my truest and most immediate experience was this: torture! The lack of sensory input, disorientation to time of day, sleeplessness, inability to escape pain…I grasped for any moment of relief. Typically, this came in the form of some compassionate nurse or staff member passing my room. Reduced to “nothingness” I’d yell out the door. “Hey, hey! Could you come talk to me?” Sometimes they would (or at least drop a concerned message at the nurses’ station). Other times a harried schedule or fear wouldn’t allow it. One particular night, after this had been going on for a week?...my mom prepared to leave for the night and offered a simple solution. She had brought my Walkman from home and a few of my favorite cassette tapes. At this time, any item brought in from the outside world felt odd. It was as if she had brought in an artifact from her trip to the moon (not my bedroom at home) but I thought I was willing to try. I let her put the headphones on me and put in a tape. The suggestion that this was going to make life better felt rude and absurd-- do these people really think a little Enya is going to make this okay?

That’s the truth! Enya did not. But ANITA BAKER!!!! did. At least for the simple moment, Anita’s “Compositions” (4th album) and her soulful contralto took me away. For several minutes a night, Anita and I would sing duets “No one to blame” “Whatever it takes” and occasionally when the tape was rewound just right Anita would intone “Talk to me” [lyrics] What’s wrong/wrong with you/why don’t you tell me what you’re going through?” Today with a different ear I can understand the smoldering significance of these sophisticated songs but I will always love them for much simpler reasons-they gave me reason to live. Anita held the torture at bay.

That is why this weekend I am so jazzed to be heading to Grosse Pointe, Michigan. The reason for the trip is to see my brother and wife’s new home. A little known fact: Grosse Pointe is also the home of ANITA BAKER!!!! I am so hoping for an ANITA BAKER sighting.


I will report back soon…

Change the Conversation on the Freedom to Marry

...rrrrt that's my soapbox coming out. here's my response.

10 Reasons why same-sex couples should be allowed to marry



as money from the first stimulus package is spent governments continue to fail (see California). Gays' weddings alone could provide a second stimulus

we could use more originality in the Bible readings. I’ve sat through many a ceremony and frankly I feel the “that’s why the young man leaves his mother and father and clings to his wife…” thing is overdone.

the wedding receptions will be way better. No longer will the wedding coordinators, caterers and wait staff have to stand to the side or hide in the shadows

Rachel Maddow and a newly confirmed judge Sonia Sotomayor could simply have a "cocktail moment" and discuss other things like oh say, the illegal use of torture?

Because, some hearty lesbian out there is being denied the chance to enter and win the wife carrying competition!

When assets to be dispersed include antler furniture, who else is better equipped to respect and dismantle it than a woman’s wife?

Because nobody owns love.

Love isn’t something you state or profess, define or legislate it’s something that you feel.

Without giving acknowledgment to same-sex marriage in a way you are saying well over 10 million U.S. citizens do not exist. You mess with a fragile and delicate part of the psyche where God exists and people feel pain.

Allowing gays to marry includes when the “for worse” comes. WE will take care of our partners until there’s nothing left to do but hold their hand and pray. We will be there when they die and we will still be gay.