The Murphies have made their last odyssey for Odyssey of the Mind, and what a long, strange trip it's been. I will put up pictures later, both from the team's sensational performance in Ames and from the separate odyssey that Dad and I took through Wyoming, the Badlands, the prairies, and -- yes -- North Platte, Nebraska. Meanwhile, Scott has already posted a link to the scores in the comments, but here is another one, and here is a brief article from today's Syracuse paper online. (Oddly enough, I can't find it in the paper version.) They also ran another short one when the team left for Ames.
Laura and I were talking a few minutes ago about our family's experiences with OM (which I will never learn to abbreviate as OotM -- as acronyms go, that one is just plain dysfunctional.) We added up the kid-years this family has invested, and if we did it right, it works out to 28 years -- 9 each for Caleb and Luke, and 10 for Laura. Maybe now some of us will go on to new experiences with OM -- judging, coaching, or perhaps someday driving a new generation of kids back and forth to team meetings and competitions -- but life with OM as we've known it so far has come to a close. That's making me think about OM memories.
Maybe you'll remember how, back when Dad and I used to coach, we would take a little time in the final meeting of each year, after the tools were put away and the props were dismantled and the last piece of pizza eaten, for each person to remember a leaden moment and a golden moment from the season just passed. This was an end-of-the-season tradition we brought from Wagon Road Camp, where we met. A leaden moment, of course, is a time when something terrible went wrong -- a meeting when everybody fought, or a day when the technical device wouldn't work, or any time when failure seemed inevitable and you may have wondered why you ever got involved with such a frustrating, ridiculous program anyway. And a golden moment is, of course, the opposite -- those rare, transcendent times when it all comes together and everything happens perfectly.
Maybe that's not too corny a thing to do right now. So, think about it, please. Do you have a golden moment or a leaden one from your OM experiences, or several of them? Then please, post a comment or two or three. There's no limit on how many, and this isn't just for Murphies. It's for anybody with OM experience to share, which ought to include nearly everyone who reads this blog.
I could post dozens of these all by myself, from team members attacking one another with staple guns and paint spilled on kitchen floors to successes I never would have believed if somebody had predicted them back when all this began. The problem is which one to choose. And then again, all of my stories are your stories, too -- so I'm not going to tell mine yet. I'll wait and let somebody else go first. Okay? Okay, then. Your turn!
22 comments:
I'll do a leaden moment and a golden moment later, but i want to point out that i started in 3rd grade, so I actually have 10 years of service time too. So, 29 years.
Aw hell, I'll get this over with now:
My worst OM moment was on the team bus home from Regionals, after what must have been my 7th or 8th grade year, when my team members felt that I should know that I was a jerk, but that they should have Mariah Budine tell me. So, she sat down with me and in the nicest way possible told me that my teammates thought I was a controlling and self-centered OMer. I didn't talk to those bastards for days, and I came pretty close to not doing OM the year after. I couldn't stay away though, and since I pretty much blamed Lindsey Jenkins entirely for the bus incident, I just became more of a jerk to her and a lot nicer to everyone else. Lesson learned, sorta.
My golden moment would have to be my 11th grade year, when I stayed up all night the night before making a disco ball out of our old (and very nice) globe, which worked flawlessly in the performance the next day. No, strike that. There were many golden moments, but none came close to the end of our 5th grade regional skit, when we pumped the vehicle so fast that I managed to fit an extra lap into the last minute, earning us extra points, and jumped off the vehicle in triumph. Plus, I was dressed as a pirate. Even getting 3rd at States (which was a big deal at the time, damnit) didn't touch that.
By the way, I scrubbed in on a surgery for the first time today and got to stick my hands deep inside a dog's abdomen. It was thrilling.
Well, at least you didn't say "inside a dog's stomach". Was it warm?
I don't remember ever doing "leaden" moments at WRC. Golden moments aplenty, but no recollection of the leadens. Anyway, Caleb's leaden moment is enough for me. If that happened to me, I'd never tell anybody!
So that's where that globe went. The same place lots of my tools, battery chargers, and who knows what all went. Other people's fishing poles, too.
GM #1: The girls (and Brian) being announced as first place winners. It doesn't get any better than that.
GM #2 and #3: The team's response to "Is the team ready?" in the Flowers year ("let's blossom") and the Easter Island year ("Ready, READY, READY!")
GM #4: Was it the big jack year? Nick pumped the vehicle up the ramp, released the chain and it rolled backwards, satisfying the vehicle must travel sdrawkcab requirement.
GM #5: Seeing the Great Parade long-term for the first time, realizing that Luke's team had the chance to put it all together and go very, very deep.
Wait, times your teammates told you that you were a jerk are supposed to be moments of lead? Hmmm....
Moment of lead: the point about a week before regionals in ninth grade when I realized that having deferred to my older teammates' vehicle-design knowledge all year had gotten us a cool-looking PVC frame that couldn't move under its own power and posed a serious electrocution risk.
Moment of gold: Ms. Kramer, our coach that year, telling my fourth-grade team that the parents of two team members would not allow those members to participate in the skit because they disagreed with its criticism of President Reagan. While this hurt us competitively (this being the dark ages, those two needed to do spontaneous, which would not have been the choice otherwise and doomed us--well, further doomed us--at states), it was staggering to think that something written by us, a gang of nine-year-olds, could scare a parent.
Yeah, well, you probably WERE a scary bunch of nine-year-olds.
Another interesting topic might be "OM Vehicles That Have Tried to Kill You."
I also did 10 years so the total service for this family is 30 years.
One golden moment was this year at state's when we got our scores back and saw that our style score was a 50, a perfect score. That was absolutely unbelievable.
Another time would be in 6th when we first got the vehicle to work.
Another time that same year, something on the vehicle broke and the whole team started fighting over who's fault it was. We were all yelling and panicking, and by the time we were done, we realized that Deirdre Argast had fixed it. That was kinda cool.
In 9th grade when they announced us getting 1st place at States. That time, we really weren't expecting it, so the celebration that ensued was crazy. Then we got on the bus and Laura's team showed up from the other gym and it was absolute chaos.
There have certainly been a lot of golden moments but I'm having a hard time thinking of them right on the spot here. I'll definitely come up with a few more later.
Leaden -- coaching Mary Alyce's 5th grade team, which had practiced at the empty Smyrna school. They had to simulate movement as their time machine traveled to three different time periods, and they came up with a creative idea of doing scenery on huge rolls of paper -- so as the paper unrolled, it appeared that the time machine was moving thru -- what else? -- time. The paper rolls were 6 feet high, and to paint the scenery, the rolls were laid out the entire length of the east hall at the school, to be painted and ever sooooo slowly to dry. Which meant, they never actually practiced with the moving scenery, which, in fact, did not move much before the rolls just collapsed; and the tape player (mandatory style point for sound effects) didn't work, and the collapsed scenery kept those who were to enter stage left from doing so -- that long term performance at Regionals was the longest 8 minutes of my life . . .
More lead -- still haven't gotten over James' vehicle team that was penalized at States for not having documentation of the flags used in their skit . . . kept them from Worlds.
Transition -- lead, Mac's 5th grade team -- build with wood, ugh, we'd need to use hammers, and saws, and . . . screwdrivers." to gold, same team 7th grade with Josh -- thought nothing of using tools I'd never heard of to build a man who moved.
The golds ... Mac's 7th grade team winning Regionals so they could perform for their coach Josh Webb at States since his cancer treatment kept him away from Oneonta -- and bringing him a key chain they'd made, which was buried with him.
Truly my biggest OM high was Lucy's call the first time they won States.
Calling James with the 2003 results from Ames, and,
the number one gold, 2004 long term -- the incredible changes after States in that so creative solution that made it a jewel perfectly reflecting the time in the lives of Anna, Laura, Katelyn, Lucy, Christina, Alex and Bryan -- we all have our stories, this is ours . . .
Worst OM moment: It was actually this year at the Worlds when a certain team member told me while waiting for a shuttle, "No one on this team likes you so go the **** away." I cried a lot. Good thing there were more good moments than bad.
Golden moments: I've never been more proud of myself, after finishing every costume, I had to sit back and smile for at least 20 seconds to look at how good my artwork was. When we received our style scores, I think I had a heart attack. I'm not sure if I've ever been that proud in my life. Perfect score. And of course, winning first place at states. I'd been dreaming about going to Worlds since third grade. Finally we found the right group of people and I'm so glad I got to go through this experience with them. Oh, but I think my most favorite thing about OM is how this year we packed the room every single time we performed. I can still hear everyone screaming "S-E ODYSSEY! S-E ODYSSEY!"
See, I guess I was always on "happy to be here" teams, because I just don't remember getting worked up about the competition aspect after my first year. As such, the documentation snafu or my later regional-losing cockiness penalty were not really low lows.
I see a book here . . .
Really.
Golden moment - seeing the Flowers perform. It was the first time I understood an OM skit.
Judi, your last paragraph hits home. Goosebump city. I loved the "Goodbye" skit, even more than "Flowers" and "Lava/Magma".
Scott, I know what you mean. They knew how to tell a story, those girls. And, yes, Brian too.
Most OM skits are incomprehensible to me. Luke's team pulled it off this year partly because they are all actors.
Luke's team also pulled it off this year because they were telling a true story, with a beginning, a middle, and an end. That sounds so simple, but it's a hard thing to do, and it's quite rare in OM, especially in the vehicle problem.
I have a leaden moment that turned into gold. It was the girls' 8th grade King Arthur year, and we were sitting in the bleachers at States while they called the places. They went up through fifth and fourth and third and second and didn't say Sherburne-Earlville and I thought that meant they hadn't placed, since of course it was unimaginable that they could have come in first. The kids were behind me and I could hear them telling each other, "That's okay, guys, we did great, I love you!" and I remember thinking, why is it never us? The kids work so hard, they do so well, why is it never our turn to be recognized? Honestly, I could have cried. And then it came to first place, and they said Sherburne-Earlville, and all hell broke loose. What a moment!! Remember how the poor woman leading the ceremonies had to ask us to quiet down so that she could get on with the rest of the awards?
Another leaden moment turned to gold: on the day before Regionals when Luke's team was in sixth grade and I was coaching them, a terrible fight broke out among everybody on the team. It was February vacation and we had been meeting all day, every day, all week; they were only in sixth grade and they were worn out, and all seven of them just simultaneously blew a gasket. They were in the lobby screaming at one another and Caitlin Pfohl was in tears and it was looking as if we wouldn't even be able to perform the next day. I took desperate measures and made them sit in a circle and take turns saying nice things about each other. I said each of them had to say something nice about each of the other ones, even if all they could think of was "I like your shoelaces." I was sure it wouldn't work, or at best that they would end up just hating me instead of one another -- but to my amazement, it worked. They were all bristly and upset at first but they calmed down visibly as they listened to the compliments. They started saying genuinely nice things about one another, and, by the time each of them had taken a turn, they were a team again. I remember Brenna Dunshee saying that at first she couldn't wait for it to be over so she could go back to being mad, but by the end she just didn't want to be mad any more. Whew. What a relief. And then they won at Regionals the next day.
One last GM: the day that Caleb's vehicle team in fifth grade got their jack-powered vehicle to work. I had been down at the house with the style faction of the team working on costumes and scenery, when the vehicle workers suddenly came flying inside all aglow and yelling, "It works, it works!" we all trooped outside to watch the team pump that thing down the snowy driveway and sure enough, it did work -- so well, in fact, that they ended up, if I remember correctly, with a raw score of 176 at Regionals -- pretty doggoned high for a vehicle solution, especially from a bunch of fifth-graders in Division II.
Oh I could go on, but I had better not. It's a work day, after all. Anybody got some more? Lucy, Mary Alyce, are you out there??
Hell, I don't need no life coach! My wife is my life coach! "Now sit down, dear, and we'll each say something nice about each other." I know EXACTLY what happened to those kids. You enchanted them!
She does, doesn't she?
Right on that telling a story with an OM skit is rare and wonderful.
Lucy's plane from Ireland just landed -- such a student she started reading a book for a fall semester course on the flight home. Speaking of home, about 24 hours until she is expected here.
Reminds me of another lead to gold -- I think the year of the awful 5th grade long term issues, was also the year that my team had to be in Oneonta early for spontaneous. I was then paged, to be told my team had been accidentally given the wrong division's spontaneous problem, and would have to do it again right after lunch. So then we had this disasterous performance described previously. But, as often seems the case at Regionals, it was downright spring-like, so we went outside and did jumping jacks, and they went on to ace spontaneous.
Another gold, when Scott called Mac and me while we drove up Rte 81 in Northern Virginia about 6:30 a.m. the day after the awards ceremony in Knoxville, to tell us glumly the King ARthur team had come in about in the middle, then slowly to let out that THEY CAME IN FIRST IN SPONTANEUOUS!!!! -- what could be more incredible in the year 2000 than a team from S-E coming in first in anything in the world??? Started to honk the horn as we drove along -- ok, not a lot of traffic at that time of day.
Oh noooo, I have so many.
Leaden: Losing regionals the flower year. So much crying, so much ice cream being eaten. Those stupid dots on that stupid table created a lot of pain.
Leaden: D-day. The broken teeth, the retainer down the elevator shaft, the brush in Laura's hair...
Golden: 198.8 at regionals for long term.
Golden: 350 at states.
Golden: Performing the van Gogh skit for the final time, and it going perfectly.
Brightest gold: Winning states the King Arthur year. Before that, it seemed so impossible. After that, nothing was impossible.
"Brightest gold: Winning states the King Arthur year. Before that, it seemed so impossible. After that, nothing was impossible."
That's beautiful, Lucy. I'll never forget the call from Cassie that you had won states. It was a watershed, and it makes clear the path of your team after that point. What do you think got you _to_ that point, where it no longer seemed impossible? Team chemistry? Luck? Mrs. Pfohl's coaching?
I'm not really certain.
Looking back, it seems like we just started understanding that it had to be a stage production, with a comprehensive story, not a skit. And from the King Arthur time we worked at this until we finally really got it the flower year, and then we worked to make it better.
A lot of other things contributed to it as well, but I can't even begin to name them.
Another great insight, Lucy. As an observer during those years, it seemed to me that the non-OM-related theater experiences you were all having in h.s. musicals and plays, Godspell, and the like contributed a great deal to your understanding of what it takes to create a stage production, as opposed to a skit. And of course, what you were all learning about music made an enormous difference.
And then there is Mrs. Pfohl. Never having been on one of her teams, I don't know exactly what it is that she does, but clearly she is doing something that is different from most other coaches. She is, after all, the common denominator on S-E teams that have made it to Worlds. I don't mean to suggest that she is doing the work that gets the teams there -- I know she's not. I do think, though, that somehow she is setting standards and expectations that profoundly affect her teams' performances. I'd love to know how she does it!
A small change in the previous comment: I meant to type "most of the SE teams that have made it to Worlds."
One more comment from me and then I'll shut up for a while. I want to follow up on this memory of Lucy's: "Leaden: Losing regionals the flower year. So much crying, so much ice cream being eaten. Those stupid dots on that stupid table created a lot of pain."
That leads me straight to a leaden moment from that same occasion -- riding home from Regionals, after the team had climbed tearfully onto their bus, with Bryan's grandmother Irene, who started cussing out OM with remarkable vehemence and color the moment the car door swung shut.
And then the subsequent GM: standing beside Mrs. Pfohl in the elementary school office while she talked on the phone to the regional director about that spontaneous snafu to find out if anything could be done. For the longest time, she just listened impassively, saying nothing more than "Mmm-hmm. . . . mmm-hmmm . . . " I couldn't tell what was happening and I was dying. And then she suddenly started to cry and said, "Oh, thank you, thank you!" and I realized the team was going to States.
A subsequent GM from that same evening was walking with Mrs. Pfohl across to the h.s. where most of the team was in a rehearsal, waiting while she borrowed them from Mr. Zona and took them out into the lobby to give them the news, and then listening to their shrieks of joy.
Remember the welcome for the team when they returned to S-E from States King Arthur year? Karen had made confetti, Kathy C brought candy bars, I had picked up flowers, and then Mark suggested he had a gun and could give them a salute -- uh, no Mark, I don't think that's a good idea, but it did suggest to Aaron's Dad that we all turn on the emergency blinkers on our cars, which I understand was quite a sight as the buses approached the school.
One thing -- what Lucy said -- then it all became possible. They didn't see the King Arthur year as dumb luck getting to Worlds, but as a jumping off point, which surely infected certain other S-E Omers.
My family draws a straight line, particularly regarding spontaneous -- James' teammates worked out exercises and strategies which were passed on to his sisters (PLATYPUS being one) and their teams, and their siblings. I do not know what I call "Luke's team" well, but with the Laura and Lucy's team, I was amazed at their ability in spontaneous to think abstractly, and I think at a young age developmentally. Ties in with Cassie's production point -- they could see the big picture, and that is really what Luke's long term solution showed this year -- telling a story, not inside jokes around a vehicle, and using techniques to make it a production the audience and judges could hear and enjoy -- not strain to catch a phrase here and there.
The Heather factor -- certainly her commitment just to being there the long hours these teams demanded can not be underestimated.
So CAssie, when does the book come out?
I think Mary Howes took S-E's first OM team to regionals in 1985 -- truly maybe someone should interview her and Rick Thormahlen -- he took the first SE team to Worlds, and he won the coach's competition, I believe.
Mrs. Pfohl might very well be the greatest OM coach in the world. I know that I have no idea what other OM coaches are like, but trust me, the difference she makes to a team is unbelievable. She might be the only OM coach in our school now who is 100% completely happy when her teams wins 1st place. Honestly, most of the other coaches are obviously relieved when they find out that OM is over. She deserves some sort of lifetime achievement award from OotM, as she is the perfect example of what the program is all about. She is the only coach I've ever had other than Mom who actually wanted us to meet more hours than we wanted to. I honestly don't think this team would have made it to worlds with a different coach.
A few leaden moments:
Spontaneous at regionals in 4th and 5th grade, and at worlds in 9th grade and 12th grade.
Golden moments:
Spontaneous at states in 6th grade. We came in 1st and it was our first year at states. At the time it was a big accomplisment and it was great to have something to be proud of after our slightly disappointing long-term.
Spontaneous at states this year was another golden moment. I have to say, even though we completely bombed it at worlds, this was by far the best Spontaneous team I've ever been on.
In 9th grade when we first got the robot moving. We ended up touching it up to make it run smoother, but before that it was hilarious to watch it bounce a foot into the air over and over when it moved.
In 9th grade again, when Sidney got 3rd place at states by just a couple points and missed qualifying for worlds. It was great to have knocked them out after they beat us at regionals and then accused us of copying their solution at states.
This wasn't exactly a moment, but it was certainly golden. Having 4 kids on this year's team that could actually contribute a great deal to building things was awesome after years of me having to do it pretty much by myself. Having Joey on the team was especially nice.
Some other golden moments would be any of those times, from any year, being on a team that really bonds. Getting along is one thing, but being on a team where everyone genuinely likes each other and has a lot of fun together is great and makes it that much more special when you win. Not to mention that much easier to deal with when you lose.
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