My friend Brent

Excuse the interruption. I haven't told all the CPConnect story, but sometimes life take an unexpected turn.

There have been many things I have wanted to do, in my life. Besides being a mother, a writer, and an artist, I wanted to be a teacher. Although I never had my own classroom at nearby Franklin Elementary, where I could have walked to school on pleasant days if I chose, I was still a teacher. I did substitute teaching for many grade levels in several school systems. I taught art, English, math, chemistry, health, guidance, physical education, and computer science.

My favorite teaching experience was from 1988 to 1994, when I taught Head Start, pre-school, school-age, and infants/toddlers at my college alma mater's daycare center. I conducted circle time, read Dr. Seuss and Richard Scarry, sang "Willoughby Wallaby" on field trips, drove a university van full of kids to Berheim Forrest and Mammoth Cave Park, and met many remarkable people under 48" high.

There were many children I will think of with fondness the rest of my life. One of them was Brent. When I first met him, Brent was two years old, and in another teacher's group. I had a two-year-old in my own group named Jeremy, a fiesty, out-going little squirt who easily won people's hearts. By comparison, Brent moved more awkwardly and responded more slowly to things, rarely speaking more than a word at a time. Brent surprised me one day during nap time when he pointed to a drawing another child had done of a large bird. He pronounced a single word -- "Eagle." Not just a bird, but a bird of prey. Not just a species, but a subspecies.

As time passed, I learned he had developmental delay. He was not like other children in some respects, though very like them in others. He learned the names of other children in the center, but he was more interested in social contact with their parents or grandparents. He would buttonhole unsuspecting guardians coming to pick up children. Although he was large, somewhat unwieldy, and impulsive, he was sweet and loving. I was often amused by the way he would single-mindedly concentrate on things he was interested in, not to be distracted by trifling obstacles. He had a great sense of humor and would laugh until he cried at things he found absurd.

As time passed, Brent acquired a baby sister. Then he started regular school, although he came to school-age daycare in the summer and afternoons. One year, between our sessions, while his mother was working, I babysat Brent and his sister. While his sister was at kindergarten for the afternoon, I took Brent to the Sidewalk Chalking Drawing event in Franklin. He was very pleased to see my house and meet my mom ("Gran").

Years passed. I saw his mom and sister in Bowling Green when Eve and I went to a movie. I wouldn't have recognized his sister, who had just started high school. We discussed Brent. His mother said he hadn't come along that time, and he'd be disappointed to have missed me.

I saw her in Wal-Mart this afternoon. I couldn't think of her name at first, though I knew she was Brent's mom. I said hello, smiled, and went on my way to pick up things for supper. When I was checking out, I saw her again.

"I didn't know it was you at first," she said.

"How are the kids doing? Though they aren't kids anymore," I commented, realizing Brent had turned 20 this fall. A look passed over her face like a shadow, and I saw the sparkle in her eyes that foretold unshed tears. We walked away from the check-out line.

"Brent's -- gone home," she said, and the tears spilled from her eyes. "It happened last year."

I realized, with some shock, what she meant, and I gave her a hug.

"I had no idea. What happened?" I asked.

There had been a car accident. There was a missing stop sign someone had knocked down where his sister was driving, and an oncoming car struck the door where Brent was sitting. His little sister was having trouble dealing with her grief. I told their mother I'd lost my dad and my sister in a similar way. It can be hard to forgive yourself for surviving something like that, when someone you love has died.

We spoke for a few more minutes, both of us crying. His sister had graduated high school, but she was taking some time before starting college. I told her mother to give her my love.

"I'm thankful I know where he is, and he's safe and happy," his mother said. "Someday, when we're on the other side, this will all seem unimportant. -- I'm usually all right, except when I meet someone else I knew loved him."

Sometimes I wonder about Jordan and Chrissy and Brandon, and other children who were Rocking Horses, Androids, or other fanciful group members nearly 20 years ago. Today, I thought maybe it was better I don't try to track them. I could keep them in my heart forever as the children they were.
Maybe that isn't right. My own kids are adults now, and I love the adult-to-adult relationships I share with them just as much as I loved their growing-up years.

Then I thought of a comment I had made at the CafePress board earlier today, concerning the conference.
"I've decided that when you leave your heart in SF, you're really just taking SF along with you to keep in your heart."

That's the way it is with people you love, whether they're alive or "gone home." You leave your heart behind with them, and yet you take them with you forever. The rest of my life, I'll remember the summer afternoon when I drew Brent's picture while he colored on paper at the table. And I'll remember how he laughed when we played "abierto - cerrado!" I'll remember how he surprised adults by looking at their keys and telling them what kind of car they drove. He's in a better place, along with my little sister and other people I have loved, but he'll always be here in my heart.

The Incredible Journey - Part I - CafePress Connect 2006

Once upon a time, in the year 2000, there was a woman who wanted to be a writer and an artist. She loved her computer. She liked searching for things, visiting websites, lurking, and making contact with other beings. The inhabitants of cyberspace were, at once, both remote and intimate. This woman stumbled across a shop in a Yahoo club. The products offered by the club were amusing, but she was more intrigued by the shop itself.
So began the adventures of Lorilei in CafePressland.

Lorilei never thought that, just less than six years later, she would be flying across the country to San Francisco because of CafePress.

What can I say? I wish I'd taken a camera. I wish I had been able to spend a week there. I wish we'd all had more time. But that Friday through Monday adventure was a great experience I'll never forget.

In order to relate this story, I think I should first give you a little of the background story. When I started out at CafePress, I had a personal website. Actually, two -- or three. I forget. They were scattered all over AOL, Homestead, and Geocities. On my sites were examples of my personal experiences, photos, art, stories of my life, even my teaching resumé. I promoted my shops a little, but I didn't expect anyone to buy anything of mine. I was interested in making t-shirts or sweatshirts with my own art of them to give as gifts.

In 2001, I was one of many people who felt a need to reach out, after the shock of September 11. I saw other CafePress shopkeepers creating designs to promote patriotic spirit and support organizations like the American Red Cross. So I was inspired to create more designs and shops and take a more active role.

I joined the CafePress messageboard, which I had not really expected to meet my needs. I decided that something was better than nothing. The board was a great place to learn. I lurked and read and asked questions. I began to teach myself rudimentary HTML, using it in my basic stores. (Yes, they supported HTML back then.) I loved the CafePress community.

But the list of stores was something of a joke. You would submit to get on the list, but no updates were made. Then it was scrapped altogether. (Not a tragic event, trust me.) There was the promise of a new one. No one knew when that would be.

By early 2002, I knew there should be a directory. I also knew that the community members I'd been getting to know from the CP Ezboard should be able to talk somewhere that was a little less businesslike. Though I was mostly interested in CafePress, it would be a place where shopkeepers could discuss things not deemed on topic on the board. The Ezboard had reached a point where all new posts were moderated before going live. Sometimes it was as much as three weeks before new comments went public. Even though I discovered how to read them before they were approved (don't ask me how I did it -- heehee), I always felt impatient. I wanted more.

In February, 2002, I opened a Yahoo group and named it GreatGear. I invited a few people, and I put a link to it in my sig on the Ezboard. I planned that the group would be public, and that our links area would become a store directory.

GreatGear started growing. I eventually demolished the rule about staying on topic, at least as far as business went. We needed to be a support and friendship group for each other more than we needed to be a shopping directory. Incidentally, there have been about three different versions of the CP directory since then, and it's still a work in progress. But CafePress.com is becoming a well-known shopping destination on the web.
I started seeing names turn up in the member list like Maheesh Jain (one of the co-founders of CafePress), as well as people like Rodney Blackwell (of I Hate Clowns and T-Shirtcountdown.com), Adam O'Connor (BuyTees.com), and Fricka/Eileen (the T-Shirt Nexus).

Then one day in July, I posted a semi-rant in GreatGear about someone who was promoting her cause on the CP board. Her cause was the acceptance of Anorexia as a normal way of life. She wasn't trying to recruit people to save the environment or become Mennonites, she wanted girls to join her in starving themselves to death. I was so completely disgusted, I had to let off some steam. And I named it, "It's a good thing I don't moderate the Forum...."
Within an hour, I received an email from Heather, a CP employee who took care of the Ezboard.
"Would you like to moderate the Forum? Drop me a line if you're interested."

I replied,
"Hi, Heather.
Wow! Be careful what you wish for ... I'm not sure how qualified I am, but I'd like to give it a try."

So Heather asked if anyone else was interested in being a mod. Several GreatGearians replied, and the Mod Squad was born.

* * *

The years have come and gone. The moderators have, too, to some extent. We moved from Ezboard to Webboard (ugh), and then to Eve/Groupee, where we are now. Heather got married and finally moved away from California, though she still works for CP. The Mod Squad got a new Den Mother, Angela.

I had attended the Louisville Meet & Greet last year, so when I heard about the CP-Connect plans, I really wanted to attend. On top of everything else, I would get to meet Jean (rotemgear) and several other close friends I had never met before.

The stories of my difficulties along the way will have to wait for my memoirs to come out in book form. I had my plane reservations, my luggage, my plastic bags (for the 3 ounce or less containers of shampoo, conditioner, lotion, toothpaste, etc.), and my CP t-shirts and stuff. Yes, of course I took CafePress t-shirts!


I wore the first shirt on the plane, naturally. Flight attendants noticed and complimented it as I was getting off the plane. But my hands were full, so although I thanked them, I didn't give them business cards.

I found the Marin Airporter and rode to Larkspur Landing, where I met Teddy (breast cancer survivor). She is a terrific and funny little lady with red hair and a Greek attitude. She looks like she wears a size 2 on a bad day, whereas I look like I went to college on a football scholarship. (Well, not really, because I'm short. But I digress.) I decided she wouldn't break, so I gave her a hug.

Back over the Golden Gate Bridge. I didn't have as good a view on the way back because of the mesh along the sides of the bridge. When I was riding the shuttle, I had a fantastic view. On the right was the bay, and on the left was the ocean. Clouds that had threatened but not actually rained on us were reaching down to the water's edge in the distance. A break in the clouds spilled a stream of golden light on the surface of the ocean in a ring like a spotlight.

Teddy and I talked like we knew one another, because we do. We had fun locating the Marina Inn, which is on Octavia at Lombard. (Official site at marinainn.com) We had to park her car in a garage a few blocks away. Adam (cp coupon) commandeered our luggage to take upstairs for us. (What a sweetie!)

The GreatGear bunch went to an Italian place a few blocks away known as Caffe Sport. It smelled wonderful, and it was charming -- but I couldn't eat the food. Things like tomato, cheese, basil, peppers, and a number of other goodies make me extremely ill when I eat them. So I slipped across the street to the Cafe Verde for a wonderful roast beef and lettuce on whole wheat sandwich and a 7Up. I rejoined my party when I had finished.

Back inside the restaurant, the "Papa" of the family chided me for not eating. (My plate was bare.) So Jean and I painted the plate with pasta, sauce, and crumbs from a roll. I didn't want them to feel insulted just because I have a wimpy stomach.

Saturday morning. It was beautiful, but we were still tired from the night before. We met in the breakfast/social room on the second floor, then walked to Fort Mason. I wore the second black t-shirt, my Leaving My Heart in San Francisco/GreatGearians at the CafePress Conference shirt. (Repeat that three times, real fast.)

After a speech by co-founders Fred Durham and Maheesh Jain (who secretly do a stand-up routine in their spare time), the sessions commenced. We heard Ryan talk about merchandise (and we saw the famous List). We learned more about implementing the affiliate program. We created descriptions, learned to market, created graphics, brainstormed holidays, and "pimped" our shops. (Don't ask.) For the next two days, it was grueling trying to decide which session to attend, since there were often four going on at once. I asked if I could borrow a Time-Turner, but there were none available.

There was a Happy Hour starting at 6:30 that night, and I felt reluctant to attend. It sounded like a cross between a high school dance and a class reunion. (I hate my class reunions, where most people seem to be racing to see who can get drunk fastest.) I slipped off to walk around and found a KFC at Lombard and Fillmore. **hangs head in embarrassment**
I confess, I was in San Francisco, and I went to KFC for extra crispy fried chicken. It was wonderful.

Happy Hour was happy. And we went to Barney's Gourmet Burgers (also here, I think) later. It was crowded, but Jen (lil goodies) got us in. I think she used a Confundus charm. We sat on a lovely deck in their back yard area. It was fun, but we were pretty chilly by the time we had eaten. Teddy laughingly said the waiters looked horrified when they saw our party being led through.

Sunday was more of the same. We exchanged mini buttons with other shopkeepers and CP folks (who were wearing their spiffy green t-shirts). I pinned mine on the lime green CafePress lanyard I wore around my neck.
After the sessions were finished, I won a prize for getting the Instant Winner mini-button from CP. Kristen Fox (art of foxvox) won a prize for getting the most votes for her mini button.


My button can be seen above.
Next to it is the Team GreatGear hoodie I wore, as well. I will be sleeping in my hoodie quite a bit in chilly weather. It is so nice!

Ah, there is more to tell, young grasshoppers, but I won't be telling it tonight. I'm too tired. Maybe in the morning.