Poking at life's box of chocolates

Have you ever had one of those “box of chocolate” days? That describes the weekend for me.
Certainly you know that famous line from “Forrest Gump” where Forrest says, “My momma always said, ‘Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.’”
I tasted a bunch of chocolates this weekend. It began on Friday with the funeral of the father of one of our Cub Scouts. That one didn’t taste so good. It was a beautiful service, but seeing a 10-year-old boy lose his dad on his birthday is a bitter pill no matter how much chocolate you put on it.
That afternoon, I went to cover the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo. When I got there, I went to pick up my press box pass for the Alan Jackson concert. Before I could reach the media room on the second floor of the Reliant Center, I encountered a mob scene.
It turns out I caught the tail end of Jackson’s induction into the HLSR’s Star Trail of Fame in honor of performing for his millionth fan at the show over the past 19 years. He became the fifth entertainer to reach that milestone behind Brooks & Dunn, Reba McEntire, Charley Pride and George Strait.
I quickly pulled out my camera, adjusted the settings and worked my way through a sea of cowboy hats until the familiar white hat and blond mustachioed face came into focus. I shot off several frames, but by then he was finishing up and leaving the scene. That chocolate was cherry-filled. I didn’t expect that.
I made the rounds through the show, locating several Waller County folks and snapping a bunch of the pictures you see in this week’s paper. Finding them was like plucking a nougat out of the box. I always seem to have a hard time finding local folks when I go there. This time I ran into Debbie Hollan and Cody Dennison, who directed me to a bunch of kiddos and their projects.
After spending the afternoon and evening walking around, my feet and legs felt like Gummy Worms. When the rodeo started, I continued to move around the stadium trying to photograph the events from different angles. Every once and a while I plopped down into a vacant seat to rest my weary bones. The funny thing is, people holding tickets for those seats somehow felt they were entitled to sit in them. Imagine that.
By the time the rodeo ended and the concert started, I hung around the main concourse shooting more photos of Jackson. After a few songs I retreated to the elevator and went up to the press box on the eighth floor. The view wasn’t so great, but the plush, soft chair was another cherry-filled chocolate.
The next morning, Sandy wanted to take the whole family shopping at Home Depot and Hobby Lobby. I bit into a coconut on that one, but went along with it like it was a chocolate cream. (Oh my aching Gummy Worms!) After shopping and lunch, we headed to the back yard to finally begin making the compost pit we have been talking about for some time. That included digging a rectangular hole in root-infested clay soil. It also meant uprooting a large bush that Sandy didn’t like.
By the time we finished for the day, I had Pop Rocks hands to go with my Gummy Worms feet. A nice hot shower and a movie date with Sandy and I was back into cherry-filled heaven again. We had to get up extra early Sunday morning (coconuts!) so Sandy could sing with the praise team at church. Getting to see and hear the love of my life on stage like that makes it all worth it, though, in a truffle sort of way.
We followed up church with a nap and a great small group Bible study. Now we’re talking dark chocolates – oh yeah! We ended the day by cleaning up our back yard mess. After lifting and hauling branches and limbs and several bags of grass clippings, I had one of those manly-man tired feelings. It was all good.
On Monday morning my commute was beautiful with blooming flowers, lifting ground fog and the setting of the moon. Smooth as caramel! Getting to the office, however, and finding it in disarray was like biting into a maple chocolate. Eww!
Our landlord, Doug Holloman, had his crew working in here over the weekend to paint the walls and put down new flooring. They were far from finished and everything was shoved into corners and jumbled in a way that you had to follow rabbit trails to get anywhere. Even now as I write this, the sounds of saws and drills coupled with the smells of glue and paint are making me feel as bad as if I had just scarffed down the whole box by myself.
I’m glad the work is getting done. It is way past due. But going through the process is like that moment just before you bite into a chocolate – you anticipate delight, but fear getting something bitter. I guess in the meantime I’m going to keep poking at the chocolates looking for the cherries.