Saturday, June 18, 2005

Saturday Morning Cartoons

Something special about a Saturday morning-- even in the summer, isn't there? All week long, I could sleep in, all lazy and not wanting to get out of bed until almost nine when I had to be at work, but, for some reason, Saturday mornings had me up before the dew burned off the grass.

I worked at the local YMCA all through my teen years. (Talk about the perfect summer job... you can't find too many jobs when you're sixteen where you hang at the pool until six o'clock and always have your weekends off. Come to think of it... you can't find too many jobs like that when you're an adult either...) After a hard work week of throwing water balloons and playing kickball, I loved Saturday mornings. They were a day all for me.

My BFF Mist and I had a routine. We'd roll out of bed early, put on our tanning attire (nothing said summer like tan lines back in the day before everyone was afraid of skin cancer) and pull my little Mustang into the front yard. Fresh batteries in the boombox, the rest of the neighborhood would find themselves waking up to the bouncy tunes of George Michael. We'd lather up the car and wait for the hottie down the road to roll by.

I don't know what we would have done if he would have ever acknowledged our presence. Just a nod as he went by probably would have sent me into a cardiac meltdown.

We put on this show, week after week, just to impress this guy. It was shallow. It was petty and silly. But what other way was there to do it? All the mags I read called it a sure-fire way to get noticed. We had all the ingredients-- hot car, hot music, hot bikinis and short shorts. I talked to him in church on Sunday mornings without an issue. Why wasn't he noticing me the day before?

Twelve years later, I took those Saturday morning frustrations and created a character who was a bit bolder than I. Jenna Rose was the flirt I was too afraid to be as a teen, but she came face to face with the hot guy from church who seemed oblivious to her quest to get him to notice her just like I did. The more oblivious he became--like my Saturday morning car washes-- the harder she tried to turn his head.

Well, I'm Barb. Author of the ON TOUR series. Obsessor of girly quizzes. (Sarah and I would have a blast at a sleepover. I love to write them, too.) Still crushing on George Michael and Toby Mac. Wife of ten years. Mom and Foster Mom. Stereotypical first child/big sister of five. Never found a peanut butter combo ice cream I didn't like. Still washing my car on Saturday mornings-- just usually blasting KJ-52 instead of George, minus the get-noticed clothes that didn't work.

So, join me here on 4:12LIVE each Saturday morning for some reflection and fun. Hopefully, I'll get to know you all more as you all get to know me. Back in the day, I wasn't a Christian. I went through the motions of church because it was expected of me, but I thought it was all a nice moral trip and nothing more. Eight years ago, I came to know Christ on a twilight hillside with Mac Powell singing below. Sometimes, I still struggle with those doubts of my childhood, and we'll probably dig more into those here as I bring you your 4:12 Saturday morning cartoons.

We'll go through them together.



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