Michele Honold’s blog

It has been a weird month for me, as I have spent more time in the hospital than I ever have in my entire life. 

2 weeks ago my father went in under the suspicion of having a heart attack and they found nothing.  5 days later they thought it was post-op pneumonia and on the 6th day we went into the emergency room with him having a heart attack.  I spent 2 days with him in a Cardiac ICU unit and 1 day in a regular room.  Thankfully he is going to be find after a minor procedure to put 2 stents in his lower heart valve.  Today we went back to the emergency room.  Bruising from the area the catheter was in led us to believe that a blood clot was forming and take precautions.  Thankfully, again, he is fine; it is apparently normal. 

My reflections on mortality started almost a month ago when a neighbor died alone in her house with no family that cared for her and started moving furniture out before her body was even cold.  I remember sitting and thinking what a sad way to die that must have been and not wanting my parents to go through the same thing. 

It was only when my father went in to the hospital that the fear of the loss of a parent really hit home.  The first thing I remember was parking the car and meeting them inside and them not letting me in.  Waiting, alone, in the emergency room, wondering what they were doing to my daddy and where was my mother.  When they brought me back I saw him.  They were hooking tubes up to him and working fast.  I was quickly ushered through the room and into a waiting area where my Mom was sitting.  It was 3 hours later that I saw him again, as they were moving him from the Cardiac Cath lab to his room in ICU. 

I was so afraid to leave, even to go to the bathroom for fear that I something would happen and I wouldn't be able to say I love you just one last time.  The next day was better but I still was afraid to leave.  The doctors said he was fine and I was glad to see his spirits up as he joked with the nurses and the doctor.  I felt better when they moved him to a regular room and said that he would be able to go home the next day.   We came home and sat on the deck with friends, watched fireworks and laughed, but I couldn't help but choke back tears wishing he was there with us and thinking about what I had to think that for the rest of my life.

When we went to see him and wait with him the following day, I couldn't help but to crawl up on his bed because I missed my Daddy.   When we brought him home I was so relieved but I still can't help but not want to leave the house or not know where he is or if he took his medicine.  I don't care if he is cranky, I understand.  I just want to sit by him and make sure he is okay. 

I know I'm being way over-protective and that I have to let go, but I don't want to.  Deep down inside there is a little girl who thinks her Daddy is a super-hero who can save the world and is invincible.  

There is one thing I hate in life, and that is not being able to help the people closest to me.  I know you can't help people who don't want your help, but it keeps me up at night.  The constant worry that something is wrong, that something terrible could be the result of it... 

I realize that there is nothing I can do, but I just don't understand why.  Why are you sitting there in a rage?  Why even after you have calmed down some, can't you talk to me?  Why don't you believe me when I give you words of encouragement?  Why don't you believe that I love you, don't want anything bad to happen to you and just want to see you happy again, like you were earlier this evening? 

All these questions are going to keep me up all night.  I almost wish that I didn't care so much, but I can't imagine what life would be like if I didn't.  It doesn't help to get upset myself, I know this...  but I can't help it.  Upset, I am.  Worried, I am.  Helpless, I am. 

It has been almost 2 months since my return to Detroit and of what I have missed.  It all came crashing down on me today. 

My day started off like most Saturdays at home.  Wake up, get ready to leave, out the door by 11 or 11:30 and off to lunch in Dearborn (roughly 25 minutes from my house).  It was on that trip today that I realized that, yes, it is summer in Detroit (is it officially summer yet?).  It was on my trek down I-94 that the smell of summer really hit me.  As we passed over I-75, with the windows rolled down, wafting in my windows was the smell that all Detroiter's know; the trash incinerator.  Yes, baking in 80 degree heat, crossing that bridge, a smell I haven't encountered in so long.  And this isn't even the one we call the "Stinky Bridge".  Yes, it gets worse than just burning/fermenting trash in Detroit and thankfully I didn't have to venture over that bridge.

Knowing that it was to late to close the windows as the smell was already in my nose, I continued on my way.  We had lunch at a new venue in Dearborn, On the Border (usually we go to Friday's) where the food was terrible but I received a phone call I had been waiting for, and we celebrated.  The sun was shining and it was a beautiful day.  We left On the Border to head over to Friday's to say hi to our trusty bartenders and upon leaving the restaurant saw that, in typical fashion of Michigan's bipolar weather, the skies had turned dark.  For those who have heard it before, it is true; if you don't like the weather, wait five minutes, it'll change.

Well I got my wild berry red bull slushie (if you haven't tried it, holy crap, it is the best thing in the world) and watched the rain come down in droves from the bar.  We left to head home, unable to get out of the parking lot due to construction and I reflected kindly on the four seasons of Michigan; construction, construction, construction and winter. 

We made it home and the sun came out, then it rained then the sun came out, then it got dark again...  Seemed like a good time to play video games or watch a movie since plans could be thwarted by weather at any given time. 

Ahhh, my dear sweet Detroit...  what's not to love?

Sitting at my computer one night I thought it would be an interesting idea to see what it is like on the personals circuit.  I am not in the market for a boyfriend as I like being single and being without commitment.  None the less, I went and found a site, filled in all my information, put up a pic, etc...  What the hell, could be an interesting social experiment, right? 

Within 5 minutes of finishing the usual "all about me" babble, I received an instant message from a guy.  The following is how the conversation went; and remember that I have NEVER talked to this person before...

Guy:  Hi
Me:  Hello.
Guy:  What's up
Me:  Not much.  Do I know you?
Guy:  I found you on _______
Me:  Okay
Guy:  You live in _______
Me:  I do, you?
Guy:  I live at ___ and ______
Me:  Okay
Guy: I'm looking for a girl to hire tonight, lol

Now I usually give people the benefit of the doubt, so this guy is joking right?

Me:  well I'm not for sale, lol
Guy:  no?  pays well, lol
Me:  lol, nope
Guy:  200 an hour

No joke.  With a polite, "NO THANK YOU", I blocked him from my messenger list, had a good laugh with a friend about it and asked him, "What gives you guys the balls to do shit like this?"  He kindly responded and asked me not to link him to this guy as he, and most men, would never seek to do such a thing. 

The more I thought about it, the more I wondered why my immediate thought was that "men are pigs".  And why was that?  Not all men are; in fact I know and have known, quite a few good men over the years.  Why then, does one bad apple, spoil everything?  How do we let that one thing infect our views on that which isn't necessarily the same?  I'm not an angry person.  I don't hate men; in fact, I like them very much.

Well, such is life I suppose. 

The last few days I have been slightly motivated to start writing the script that I have been planning for the last, almost, 3 years.  The only problem is that I haven't been able to focus enough to even sit down and attempt to write anything. 

Today was a gloomy day.  So gloomy that when I woke up I thought it was still dark and went back to bed only to wake up at noon surprised to find that I missed morning completely.  From waking up I went on to bake cupcakes, make a cheesecake, read my new cooking mag and then off to pick up the computer that was in for repair. 

I keep thinking that I am finding every excuse not to sit down and start writing, but even as I sit here I am chatting, constantly checking the mail seconds after it comes in, trying to plan a small 60th birthday for Saturday and watching the hockey game.  I can't figure out why it has become so hard to multi-task and focus on just one thing at a time. 

Where is all this nervous energy coming from?  I suppose it could be from looking for a job, doing more than my share around the house.  It is like I am trying to be in so many places at once that I have literally split my working brain into a hundred different projects that, instead of multi-tasking, I am literally running from one thing to the other to the other, finding that there is never enough time for one thing before the urge to do another hits.   

This little bout of crazy needs to end before I literally go crazy. 

In a blog, not so long ago, I returned to the excitement of my youth by way of the New Kids on the Block.  Today I found the new single, Summertime, on iTunes (released May 13th).  I paid a whole 99 cents plus tax and was a little afraid that I might be disappointed if they opted to change their image.   It is with great joy that I can say that I wasn't. 

As soon as it started, all my fears subsided.  It is the New Kids of old that we loved so much.  Go to iTunes, purchase, download and enjoy.  Don't be afraid to fall in love again with the boys we fell in love with as kids.  I don't think you will be disappointed.

Growing up I was taught a great many values.  One included that America is made up of many different races, cultures, religions, personalities... and all of these people are what make America great and all of them should be respected; that just because they are different doesn't mean they are wrong.  These values that were instilled in me as a child are very important to me.  They taught me to respect those of any race, economic standing, level of education, etc. 

I was slightly offended when I received an email from a college educated and very intelligent friend of mine.  The headline read: "WOW I never really thought about this but it is pretty true".

In this email was the speech that Micheal Richards (Kramer from Seinfeld) gave in court to defend his inappropriate actions against an African-American in a comedy club.  It is entitled "Proud to be White" and the following, in bold, is directly from the email.

Someone finally said it. How many are actually paying attention to this? There are African Americans, Mexican Americans, Asian Americans, Arab Americans, etc. And then there are just Americans.   You pass me on the street and sneer in my direction. You Call me 'White boy,' 'Cracker,' 'Honkey,' 'Whitey,' 'Caveman'...and that's OK. But when I call you, Nigger, Kike, Towel head, Sand-nigger, Camel Jockey, Beaner, Gook, or Chink...You call me a racist.

What are "just Americans"?  We all migrated here in one way or another from countries far and wide.  Those "just Americans", are they not English, French, Dutch, German, Russian, etc?  What makes a person "just American"?  Does being a "just American" give you the right to think one type of American are better than other Americans?  What is alright about any race demeaning another? Just because someone does it to you, do you really think that it is alright to do it to them?  Since when do two wrongs make a right? Are people really sneering in your direction because you are white or are they sneering at you because you are projecting your hatred onto them?

Going on in his email, it appears that Mr. Richards is further upset because other races have started their own organizations, beauty pageants and TV networks saying, "We have a black Chamber of Commerce, a Hispanic Chamber of Commerce and then we have just the plain Chamber of Commerce...  A white woman couldn't be in the Miss Black America Pageant, but any color can be in the Miss America Pagaent...  You have the United Negro College Fund. You have Martin Luther King Day. You have Black History Month. You have Cesar Chavez Day. You have Yom Hashoah. You have Ma'uled Al-Nabi. You have the NAACP. You have BET."

It appears to me that Mr. Richards is somewhat jealous of everything that other races have done for themselves.  I don't think anyone should be faulted for giving a day to one of the greatest black leaders, one of the greatest leaders, America has seen, or that there is a month or a day to celebrate their history or culture.  No one is asking you to take part, but I remind you that their history affected your history in some way, shape or form, and therefore it is part of your history too. 

As far as we have come in the 232 years America has existed, we still have a long way to go.  I believe in the freedom of speech, but it is ignorance like that of Mr. Richards that keeps sending us 2 steps back.  I beg you, that if you get this email, please do not forward it.  If you are curious and would like to view the email in its entirety, you may feel free to email me and I will forward it to you.  If you agree and want to forward it on, well, that is your right.  I wish there were more people that wanted to fight this kind of ignorance instead of revere it. 

There is a show from when I was younger that had a song called The Great American Melting Pot. If you have never seen this segment from School House Rock, I urge you to read them (http://www.schoolhouserock.tv/Great.html).  I think Mr. Richards should read this, maybe then he will better know how to define America. 
 

It was a long trip back through Ohio on Friday.  By the time we actually got into the motel room for the evening it was nearly midnight (I do wish it would have been longer).  The day didn't start off to bad though.  We were up around 10, out the door and on our way by 12 - 12:30 and in Athens just in time for Manny's' Thesis Defense. 

On the way down there was a small snag.  Due to issues beyond our control, we were unable to stay with friends and had to get a room at the Highlander (to those in town it is affectionately called the "Ho-Lander").  After his defense, which went very well by the way, we went straight to get our room at the "Ho-Lander".  Now it is the cheapest place in town at only $45 dollars a night and I understand, as the saying goes, that you "get what you pay for"...  but, nothing could have prepared me for what we walked into.

The room was fully equipped with a bathroom (3 clean towels, 1 dirty), a king sized bed with a large mirror behind it, on the wall in front of it AND above it.  The image of that was made complete with a hunk of 2x4 attached to the wall behind the headboard to act as a buffer for those things that, ew, go bump in the night.  Now with that as the physical picture for you, here is something to play on one of your other senses. 

When I checked us into the room, no one told me that this was a smoking room.  Now Manny and I are both occasional smokers so big deal, right?  WRONG.  The room smelled like someone had been smoking in there constantly without ventilation for the last 10 years... mixed with mold.  It was on that note that he and I decided that chilling in the room was out of the question and off to the bar to celebrate we did. 

With a celebratory shot of Jamison in front of us, he called everyone he needed to and I made conversation with one of our favorite Athens bartenders.  The evening lasted a while and we tried to stretch it out by inviting friends out (anything not to go back to that room), but given drama that occurred the night before everyone was staying in.  It was fine, we had figured it was getting late and we needed to find food before every kitchen in town closed for the night anyways. 

After a very good dinner. it was off to Walmart for a few necessities, including air sanitizer (thank you Oust!, you are my new favorite product) and beer.  When we got back to the room, before we brought any of our stuff in, I promptly took out the can and started spraying.  About 3/4's of a can later, and the room smelling fresh-er, we brought everything in and made more decisions.  We made our bed using the extra blankets, pillows and comforter we had in the car (mom thought it would be a good idea in case we ended up on the floor at our friends) and dressed for bed. 

As we crawled in we were reminded of the movie Vacancy with Luke Wilson and Kate Beckinsale.  It was then that I started to think that we wouldn't make it through the night.  It wasn't just the Manny was walking around looking for shifty floorboards in which someone would make their way into the room in the middle of the night.  There was just something overly creepy about this place.  From then on I refused to sleep, either night there, without the lights on. 

The next day, after more than 12 hours in a editing room, we partied like rockstars, got more than wasted.  The next day was the screening (which went rather well after mild amounts of stress) and we drove home after a late lunch with cast and friends. 

Now I am home.  There isn't anything more I can say. 

For those of you who don't know me, I am a producer.  My goals are to produce feature films for major studios.  I have been working towards my goal for the last 4 years and much of that time has been spent working with my best friend and business partner, Manny Fonseca, and the Ohio University School of Film. 

Much of my education in producing has come, in large part, from the faculty letting me work on every project I could get my hands on.  To them I say, Thank You.  The education that I was able to glean from working on sets and from them in person is priceless. 

In just the last 20 minutes, Manny and I locked the final cut on his Thesis Film, Alicia's Love.  I can say that it is by far the best film I have had the immense honor of working on.  The actors, excluding a few speed bumps we may have hit along the way, gave terrific performances and were a pleasure to work with.  This is important as I have not had the honor of being able to say that regarding past projects. 

There is a big load of relief that I know both of us are feeling right now.  For everyone who helped us, supported us and even kept us grounded throughout the processes of pre-production, production and post...  Well, what can i say?  I, no We, appreciate you. 

We are heading back to Athens, Ohio tomorrow (well today now) to have the public thesis screening.  (If you are in town and would like to attend, the information will follow.)  I am so happy to have a film that makes me proud.  We don't make films with a message.  We don't make documentaries about important issues.  We make films that entertain, whether it be for 30 minutes or 110, so that you, the public, can take a moment out of their lives, leave their troubles and just watch a movie.  Knowing that we have successfully done that makes me happier than I could have ever hoped.

On this note, I am going to sign off for the evening, take a big sigh of relief and sip on a glass of wine. 

I hope you all have a good night and if you can make it to the screening, we would love to see you there.  The screening is to take place Sunday, May 18th at the Baker Center Theatre (2nd Floor) at Ohio University, 1pm. 

Thank you again and Goodnight. 

I received in the mail today, the latest issue of US Weekly.  I was browsing around, looking at celebrity fashion, whose doing what where with who...  then, I came to page 30 and in the bottom right hand corner there was a picture that took me back to junior high.