Music Monday: My Friend...

For today's Music Monday, I'm doing something a little different. The disastrous flooding in Texas that caused campers, counselors, and staff at Camp Mystic to lose their lives has hit close to home for me, and this blog post will be a bit more personal than most of my Music Mondays.
One thing about me that probably seems strange to those that only know me as an adult is that I was a camper from the time I was a rising third grader (8 years old) until I was a rising senior in high school (17) and then worked at the same summer camp for five years after that. Camp was my life, and as a child of a clergy family (Preacher's Kid or PK), it was even more so. We moved about every four years until I was in 8th grade (13) and then after seven years so that I could graduate from high school. They then moved again with my sister having only one year in my high school and three at the school from which she graduated. I went to work at camp that summer, leaving from one home and returning at the end of the season to another one. 

Me and a camper, summer of 1992 (?)

For these girls and the staff, Camp Mystic was home just like Camp Glisson in North Georgia was for me, and while I can't begin to fathom the horror, the fear, and the loss felt by families involved, one quote stands out. Parents of a camper lost in the flooding said that for them, their child would be forever living her best life at the camp she loved. May all kids have such a safe place where they are covered up with love like Mystic and, in my experience, Glisson. The song for today is one I sang all those years on Fridays when, as a camper, I had to go back home with my parents or, as a counselor/section leader, I watched these precious campers that I'd folded into my heart leave for their homes. It's a lot more upbeat in the video below than it was when I was a camper, and I like that change. 
Please, if you are able, find ways to help and support the Camp Mystic families. At the time of this writing there are still 10 campers unaccounted for--and loads of ways to help them in this horrible time. From my camp home, via Facebook: "To offer support beyond prayer, consider contributing to the United Methodist response coordinated through the Rio Texas Conference: Advance #2050 Guadalupe River Flood."
To my Glisson family, I'll see you in the sky, if not before... (lyrics below)

My Friendsung by Camp Glisson Staff, summer of 2012
My friend, I think of you dailyBecause I care, and it's trueThat though we've shared a lot togetherIt's very rare that I see you
And I want you to know that God loves youAnd that I love you tooAnd that even if we're hardly ever nearI'm talking to him about you
And I'll be praying for you every morningAs I start of the day with the LordAnd I'll be praying that you're walking with JesusAnd abiding in His word
For you see, this Jesus of NazarethHe means everything to meFor He has taken my life and He has freed my soulAnd He's calmed an angry sea
And I want you to know that God loves youAnd that I love you tooAnd that even if we're hardly ever nearI'm talking to him about you
And I'll be praying for you every morningAs I start of the day with the LordAnd I'll be praying that you're walking with JesusAnd abiding in His word
Well, I don't know when I'll see you againA month, a year, or maybe moreBut if your heart belongs to the SaviorI'll see you in the sky if not before
And I want you to know that God loves youAnd that I love you tooAnd that even if we're hardly ever nearI'm talking to him about you
And I'll be praying for you every morningAs I start of the day with the LordAnd I'll be praying that you're walking with JesusAnd abiding in His word

Well, howdy, Houston.

Yeah, I know that people don't really say howdy just because this is Texas. But to be honest, my first hours in this part of the Lone Star State have been so very weird that I first thought I'd booked the wrong flight and was actually in Austin, but that weird is a good weird. This weird is like a WHEN AM I GOING TO WAKE UP FROM WHAT IS CLEARLY A NIGHTMARE weird.

I don't think that it is Houston's fault though... To be fair, I'm not even sure that I'm in Houston proper. I flew into Hobby because the hotel where my conference is being held only runs a shuttle to Hobby - a fact that, in retrospect, should have told me loads about the hotel. But I will get to that in a minute.

I flew Southwest for the first time and after wrangling their wifi (good gracious, I've been here less than 24 hours and I said wrangling) mid-flight, I find that was the only complaint I have with them. It is definitely worth it to do what you need to do to be Passenger A 1-10 to board, and make sure you can check your bag, and it's really a pleasant airline for short haul flights. The seats aren't as comfy as the Delta Economy Comfort that my rear end has grown to love, but the flight crew was nice and it was a good experience...at least until the landing at Hobby.

We were coming in for a landing - literally, I could read the words on the buildings - and then out fo nowhere we started climbing again. Apparently, the plane on the runway to take off was not going fast enough so our plane couldn't land. I guess there is a first time for everything. Poor hubs was watching the flight online and said that it told him I'd be on the ground in ten minutes and then JUST KIDDING, we were circling. But we landed, and I made it off the plane, got my bags, all before my phone's battery died. JUST.

I followed the signs (once I wandered around till I found them) to the "Hotel Shuttle Pickup" spot and waited...and waited...there was lots of waiting. The couple waiting there with me probably wished that I would go away - it should be no shocker to anyone that knows me that I am very bad at small talk. I was two clicks out from going back in the airport to regroup and charge my phone when the shuttle for my hotel arrived. Back on the plan!

Sort of.  The couple I was waiting alongside was either on the phone or on the net from the airport to the hotel (which y'all, is like 5 minutes) and talking about transplants and stem cells and how someone whose name I didn't catch was "expendable...well, not expendable, but expendable." I tuned out at that point. Got to the hotel and they had given my room away. Now two weeks ago I rang the hotel to let them know that I would be there on Thursday instead of Wednesday - which made their website tell me that I had to start over and the hotel was sold out this weekend. The very nice woman I spoke to said she straightened it out, just took the Wednesday arrival off and send me a new confirmation email. The man who clearly could not have cared less had he been dead told me that wasn't the case and they were putting me across the street at another hotel for the night at no charge. Since that was NOT the point, I argued and told him I had a confirmation email. He told me it didn't matter, he did not have a room for me and here's the shuttle, come see us after 8am tomorrow and we will have a room for you.

Well, you can just imagine my happy face at THAT good news. So I come to the HOLIDAY INN EXPRESS - which by the way has not made me any more intelligent by my staying here - which has no restaurant. Did I mention I ate lunch in Greenville at 10:45 and was starving by that point? So I got the shuttle back across the street (which isn't a street, it's a HIGHWAY and very busy and loud) and tried to find the registration for the conference. The terribly unhelpful man that gave away my room answered my VERY REASONABLE question about the location of the registration for TerpExpo by saying that he only registered people for the hotel. What?

Still with me? BECAUSE THERE'S MORE.

So I'm wandering around, nearly in tears from hunger and frustration, feeling an anxiety attack building toward panic when I saw a line of people leading to food. I got in the line, but as it drew closer I found that the food in question was ice cream. There's another group in the same hotel - a church group from Waco learning about mission trips. And best of all, they brought all three million of their children. I got out of that line and wandered around till a very helpful member of the waitstaff from the hotel restaurant took pity on me, got me a table and a menu.

Two things about that meal: The hotel serves Pepsi products and "basil cream sauce" on pasta is basically pesto.

Made it to the registration table, got myself sorted out, and made it into the last workshop of the day. All in all, I'm not that impressed with TERPEXPO so far, and the registration issue was just one of the problems. What kind of interpreter conference has that much talking without signing? I think I've learned that these conferences are not for me, thank you. RID seriously has nothing to worry about in terms of losing folks to this circus. I hope it's better in other cities.

So after hours and hours of "this must be a dream" and "please, I'd like to wake up now," I am in my room across the highway and I feel a little better. Must be the pesto...because it isn't Houston.