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(c) 2012 Trina Lambert

After a month of moving either our daughter’s things to college or (seemingly) everything in our home, last night we got to end the month on a high note—or more likely several high notes: Sherman and I went to go see both B.B. King and his band as well as the Tedeschi Trucks Band perform at Red Rocks Amphitheatre thanks to Jackson’s generosity for Father’s Day and my birthday.

Really, I was too tired to go to a concert, but we’ve been waiting a long time for last night’s performances. And, at soon-to-turn-87-years-old, B. B. isn’t getting any younger! (I know, I know—neither am I.)

After a hot, dry day and an even hotter, dryer long summer, the Red Rocks’ weather kicked up quite a wind and cooled things down. It even rained a little in my own yard first—why does our planning to go to a concert there change the weather in a summer with seemingly unchangeable weather? (Last month we went to hear the Lumineers and Cake—and I got soaked and frozen—good thing the weather improved as the night went on, as it did last night.)

I love the interaction at live performances and even the lack of polish you hear sometimes—if I wanted perfectly engineered music, I’d just stay home and listen to the edited music.

But what I don’t love is how many people really don’t pay attention at concerts. OK, now I’m going to expose the “country” person in me when I say this, but these people seem to have too much money and too little sense.

The problem isn’t new, of course. I remember going to a Jimmy Buffett concert in the late 80s and standing behind a large group of couples who talked to one another and often turned away from the stage throughout the whole concert. It was almost enough to endear me to the loud, off-key singing from all the nearby Parrotheads.

Look, I have ADD—I sometimes disrupt other people’s experiences by commenting at the wrong time or being too loud. But I get the impression that a lot of these people talking through the concerts or walking back and forth across the aisles don’t even realize they should act differently. I don’t expect white gloves and party manners—stand up, dance to the music, whistle, etc.—but could you try to be a little bit more engaged in what’s going on down on the stage or at least move to the sides?

Now I am going to sound like that stereotypical old person—I think with fewer and fewer boundaries in society and more distractions, more people don’t know how to, first of all, behave in group situations so others can have a reasonable experience, and, secondly, try to focus on the experience itself. For every person talking loudly through the songs, there was a person who was scanning emails and news and whatever else on his/her cell phone.

When I think about the difference between the environment in which my mom’s (just guessing here about the diagnosis) ADD was molded and the one in which mine was molded and the one now, I wonder if anyone now who has the propensity for ADD is going to have a chance at mitigating the more negative sides of ADD without experiencing a few more boundaries. And beyond that, if you don’t value something, such as minimizing your disruptiveness, then you’re probably not going to attempt to do things differently.

Seriously, I felt like one of the least ADD people around last night, but I had plenty of work to do on one of my own less-than-stellar ADD traits: hyper-focusing on noise and other nearby distractions while missing the big picture.

I didn’t really miss it—the music was great. I’m glad I got to see a legend and his band, as well as the stellar musicians in the following group.

But, seriously, people, going to a concert isn’t about you—it’s about all of us—together. Just because all the world’s a stage doesn’t mean your performance should supersede the ones listed on the ticket.

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(c) 2012 Trina Lambert
The recycling (R) and just a small portion of the trash (L) generated cleaning out our house!

Sometimes the half-empty glass is fuller than the one filled to the brim.

Can’t believe it’s been almost six weeks since I updated my blog, even though I did write a few things I never polished enough to post. The lack of writing has not been in vain as I (and my family members) have been really busy trying to get our house into a new normal condition. And if you work from home, you know who is the one most affected by the order—or lack thereof—within the home. In this house, that’s me!

Back to that theme of sometimes having to prune to grow—and that time is now, for various reasons, including Christiana’s leaving again for college, Jackson’s staying to study and work, and the necessity for some work throughout the whole house.

Today I want to focus on the little things, such as putting the outlet plates back on the walls, except with me, I can never stop with one little thing—which is a lot of why I don’t clean nearly enough. Because first the outlet plates need to be washed, but then how can I put them back on dirty walls?

But the big thing is we have freed this house from a whole lot of excess clutter and things we didn’t need or want anymore. DAV just picked up about six bags of usable items from our porch and I know when we start putting everything back, we’re going to have more to donate when ARC’s truck comes through our neighborhood next week. And then there are all the cardboard boxes and papers waiting for the recycling truck, as well as the bags out for the trash truck (which has not arrived—although I am nervous we’ve been skipped on this crucial pick-up date, I do possess a discount coupon for the local landfill and plan to use it, if necessary, because I cannot wait any longer to be free.)

Years ago our family business worked with a man we called our New Age CPA since he also wanted to become a healer. Richard talked a lot about the “bad chi” of clutter and I actually learned to trust him on that, although in my busy life, I didn’t do a great job of putting the knowledge into practice.

Well, Universe, we are ready for what comes next—out with the old (stuff) and in with a whole lot more room for new experiences and opportunities, but no more new stuff, thank you very much. We’ve taken our lifetime share of the landfill.

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(c) 2009, Christiana Lambert