Ronda Matson: Ramblings

For once, I’m glad it’s raining.  The day is a mirror of my sadness as I consider the world without Georgia in it. 

“I met her on my lonesome day.”  It’s so true. 

A week after yet another brain surgery operation, in the Fall of 2006, I met Georgia Allen.  I was missing half of my hair & had covered my baldness & stitches with Erin’s wide knit American flag headband.  Somehow, I felt stronger with it on.  I was determined that the guitar-picking nails of my right hand would not be lost like my hair, like so many dreams I once had, in a blink.  I knew that I didn’t have the fine motor ability at that point to save them, so I braved potential embarrassment & went to the salon.  I didn’t talk to anyone or look at anyone.  It was a perfect misery.  Suddenly, there was Georgia—and she was talking to me!  Her energy and (eventually) her love of music came at me full force.  Georgia, hailing from the great state of Alabama, showed me pictures of herself with the members of the band… ALABAMA!  Amazing.  I noticed her NASCAR coffee mug & commented on it.  She turned to pictures of herself with famous race car drivers…

Georgia was a treasure.  She turned my lonesome day & many days after that into something wonderful.  My outlook that first day became hopeful again, almost in an instant.  I was able to see “beyond the rainbow in my head.”  Yes, I was once again starting all over, fighting my way back, but I knew I could do it. 

I hope there is someone like Georgia in your world.  For some people, as with my dear grandmother, Catherine, 82 years of a wonderful life seems not nearly long enough.   But, this I know:  “In a world that might not care, close your eyes.  She’ll be right there.”

Peace~ 

I swim with the Megabytes!  Communicating in the computer age is a little like jumping into the darkest ocean miles from shore.  Something brushes against me, but just for an instant. It’s a little scary.  MySpace, Twitter, LinkedIn… All the fishes are out there, some co-existing, some swallowing up the little ones.  There is Ronda Matson “the person” & there is Ronda Matson “the page” on Facebook.  Some folks dislike Facebook, but I find it intriguing, a friendly kind of fish.  It connects Ronda “the person” to old high school & college friends.  It allows me to send quick messages I know they’ll get to any one of my four children.  I can have fun with old pictures.  

Ronda “the page” is a different animal (as my father would say) & I think the potential is exciting.  It provides a Fan Space, a room for impressions of the music, thoughts, discussions, relevant photos & videos.  It shows the faces of the wonderful people who offer their support, who lift me up.  Sometimes, it’s fun to swim with the Megabytes!  One face at a time, I continue to discover—and appreciate—the power of the page.

At first glance, this topic appears to have little to do with music.  However, faced (as I am) with the daunting task of making up so much lost ground, especially in the area of communication, “Swiss cheese” is a theory that might come in handy. 

I learned The Swiss Cheese Theory in 1987.  It’s simple:  When the job is too big, poke holes in it.  The notion made perfect sense, but every cell in my body rebelled.  The concept went against my nature.  I liked to start a thing and see it to the end.  If I couldn’t finish a project, it was likely that I wouldn’t even begin it.  “My nature” served me well after the birth of my first baby.  Time passed & there was another baby.  More time passed.  Uh oh.  Another baby.  I started to worry & I think I blinked.  Suddenly, I was mother of four & working outside the home.  The job was BIG. 

In the end, I would have been lost without images of Swiss cheese.  If there were 12 drawers to clean, I would clean 3 & force myself to be happy about it.  Over time, I actually WAS happy about it. 

So, here I go again.  I’ll poke holes in Project Communication.

I’ll make Swiss cheese!  

Maybe you have this problem.   If the job is too big, sometimes I ignore it. 

Jump onto the merry-go-round of real life and there’s often no time for the big job.  Heaven forbid there’s more than one!  Forget it...  At the moment, the task of communication weighs heavily on me.  Everything, literally everything, fell from my plate.  There was (and is) far too much I’d like to say, to explain, to offer, to share… and so, I haven’t done it at all.

What’s more, I don’t like the word “blog.”  I really don’t want to be a “blogger.”  The word doesn’t sound good or look good.  “News” is okay, but the news can be pretty long-winded where Ronda is concerned.  Without making any solid promises regarding consistency of effort, I will attempt to offer my thoughts in... a ramble!  That seems fitting.  Welcome to Ronda’s Ramblings~

I hope you’ll check back often!

Peace~