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the everyman memoirs

The official blog of author Tali Nay.
MAY
11

The Lanyard

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This poem has special meaning to me. Not just because of all the lanyards I tied in my childhood, but also because it of course makes me think of my mom. Oh, and it's also hilarious. So Happy Mother's Day to all the women out there. (Shot above brought to you circa 1985.)

MAY
07

Pre-Mother's Day Pontification

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After Schooled was published, someone commented to me that their favorite characters were my parents. Not at all major players in the book, they apparently still left this reader with a sense of their down-to-earthness. True, my parents are golden (“the two most constant and sparkling fixtures to ever decorate my life”), and whenever Mother’s Day is upon us—closely followed by Father’s Day—I find myself waxing pensive. (When am I not waxing pensive? Good question.)

I don’t classify myself as first and foremost a religious person, though I do have convictions that are very important to me. I believe, for instance, in heaven. That we will exist after we die. It’s always made sense to me then that we probably existed before we were born. So any theology or conjecture around this possible pre-Earth state always piques my interest. For me, honestly, it’s the only way that life makes any sense. I mean, otherwise, what is the point? (Where am I going with this? Another good question.)

If you subscribe to the idea of some sort of pre-Earth state, then I’m particularly curious when it comes to the topic of families. Did we, for instance, pick the families we would be born into? Draw straws? Receive assignments? No one can really know, of course, but I suppose this is a roundabout way of saying that if we did have any say in our future families, I know I would have chosen exactly the family I’m in. If you’re still with me, and I hope you are, I apologize for going all convictionite on you. It won’t happen again. At least not until next Spring.

And don't mind the mini mustache magnet. It's a family thing.

MAY
13

Mom

One of the first pieces of feedback I got on this book came from a friend who said something that surprised me. "My favorite character in the book was your Mom," he said. This baffled me. Not because my mom isn't the most angelic person on the planet, but because she's not exactly a main player in the book. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I seemed to remember that she was only even mentioned a handful of times. "Really?" I pushed back. "Yeah, she just comes across as so honest and real," he assured me. And he's not the only person who has commented to me about how well my mom comes out in the book. I guess it's impossible to conceal just how wonderful my mom is.

And on this Mother's Day, I find myself feeling weepy. Not only because my own mother is such a great example to me of goodness, but also because they keep playing that Johnson's Baby commercial ("You're doing okay, Mom") which if you have two X chromosomes is physically impossible to stay dry-eyed through. So in order to get an emotional hold on myself this evening, I'm leaving you with this rather entertaining gem. Not a Mother's Day poem by any means, but one of my BC favorites. Dedicated to my Mom...along with countless lanyards.