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It’s Just The Principle

Wow, what does that statement really mean to you? I want this one to make you laugh a little and NOT take yourself so seriously. Come with me for a visit to an internet social community, specifically, my Facebook account.

If you have an account with Facebook or a similar website you can probably relate. Let me first say, I enjoy it. When I first signed on almost two years ago, it was simply something to do and I can say it is still just that today. It has evolved though.

My early dealings, was at obsession level. I had a complete ball on this site. I ran into a number of people from my past, I reconnected with family. The great thing was the ability to control connections. If you saw someone you knew and wanted to be in touch with you had the option of requesting friendship, just like if you found someone you knew and did not necessarily want to be in contact with you could simply move on. People from “outer-cyberspace” were requesting friendships, I was selective in accepting these unknowns. I applied what I felt were the proper filters  and went from there. I avoided what I deemed to be “collectors” and I have kept my “friend” list to a small semi-intimate group of people that I regularly interact with, at the very least I/we say Hi, Happy Birthday, etc. to one another.

I laugh as I recall my friends speak about their first connections; after all this is a vehicle of our children, we just hopped in and rode anyway. I have become reacquainted with people who were so young the last time I saw them, my memory of them could more closely linked to the offspring of my own children. There have been the numerous privacy irregularities we have navigated through and pointless entertaining games. People have deactivated their accounts for one reason or the other, sometimes permanently other times to clear their heads and manage their free time better. Overall, Facebook has been a positive experience.

Now no piece would be complete without a visit to the dark side and trust me this is minuscule, but today I lost a” friend” on Facebook. I cannot tell you why, I don’t know what I did or even if I did anything. I have to say this “friend” was initially treated the same as all of my other Facebook “friends”. However, through deed and lack of contact this person had been placed in a status where there was very limited contact available. No pictures were accessible, there was no ability to comment on my posts or even to see my posts, my profile was visible as I make it for the unknowns in the Facebook world and I did not allow the posts of this same individual to be seen on my wall.  Today I discovered that I not only had been deleted as this person’s friend but had been blocked! My first thought was , “The nerve…” and there were other superlatives involved.

As ridiculous as this may seem, even to me, it was simply the principle of it. For all intent and purpose I had deleted this individual, yet when an overt act denied me the ability to do the very same thing I felt insulted and disrespected. I searched for an explanation and there is an easy one; for whatever my former “friends” true motive(s), a position was taken and a stand was made. I cannot say a lot positive about this person’s character accept the obvious, my former “friend” was not indecisive and did exactly what I should have done over a year and a half ago with absolution.  Instead I hesitated.

For future references don’t wait for things to happen because they will. If you feel strongly enough about something that you make semi-aggressive moves, be what you are dancing around. If it is just the principle stand by that principle.

Warm Cookies and Milk

I grew up with fine cooks in my life; my maternal grandmother was a wonderful cook, my eldest aunt on my father’s side was the ultimate cook, and then there is my Mom. It is unfortunate that cooking now isn’t as important as it was when we were growing up. Busy schedules and the availability of fast food has turned it into a somewhat lost art. Come back with me into the kitchen; climb up onto the stool and see that beloved individual in your life create and/or teach you one of the fine foods that will for years to come, bring back memories that can and will be ignited by a fleeting thought.

Sunlight filtered into my bedroom and the aroma crept up. At first I simply rolled over, then my eyes opened and I sat straight up. In a semi-trance I made my way to the kitchen. Ahhh fresh rolls. My maternal grandmother made the best little bite sized rolls you could imagine. I remember helping her, but I never quite got the hang of it. Instead I am happy to be the cake baker of the family.

As amazing as it is, we don’t really think about how smells, fragrances, aromas act as a time machine for us. I realize it only because I am so far away from the familiar terrain I grew up in and around.  I didn’t know where this was going when my friend told me a story and sparked the writing bug. The title came fast and the rest just lingered on with nothing really inspired to talk about.  It was, after all, her memory and she relayed the story so well. I was trying to gather something from a similar experience, so that I could do her memory justice . Perhaps that was my mistake I was trying too hard.  I could not do her story justice because it was her story, and even though she gave it to me as a starting point it still belonged to her. I cannot touch the feeling she relayed to me from her mind’s eye. I just know I was right there in the room with my friend and her mother tasting those cookies.

Then I saw a photograph of another friend from childhood with her beautiful little granddaughters on the playground. The baby was bundled up, her big sister looking on showing off baby sister, and my friend glowing with pride. I could smell the cool, dew drenched Southern California mornings. I felt the chill in the air and I went back to grandma’s kitchen.  I saw her cutting out the little delicacies and I tasted the buttery delight of them. This segued to my first mornings with my new baby sons, decades flew past like the pages of a book in a mild breeze. Then I knew my warm cookies and milk memory was simply my family, my friends, and their faces. Ignited by one sense, but crescendoed by another.

You Hurt My Feelings and I AM MAD!

What gives someone the right to do this to you? Sometimes it is intentional, sometimes it is not. If the first occurs you have “Carte Blanc” in your dealings with them. However, what about the other? How do you address your feelings when it is very possible the perpetrator has no idea about what they have done.

This was an easy one for me of sorts, because  at the time I started I was in that state.  I wanted to cuss and cry at the same time. It seems as though I am experiencing this more than I care to of late.  I look to self first, am I being just too sensitive? Is it the other way around?

In dealing with hurt feelings you have to guard against perhaps putting other issues in where they normally would not enter.  Anger often enters and it truly distorts vantage points. Dealing with one wound you are already sensitive, it is understandable why another one could easily happen. If you slow down, don’t react immediately, and give yourself a chance to really look at what is going on, you may just find the answer you were searching for.

I was quite motivated when I began this piece, but fortunately I did what I am suggesting. Otherwise I cannot say, nor imagine what may have been written here. Sometimes we want to be the victim, sometimes we want to be damaged, it gives us an excuse for our behavior. One must note having what is deemed as an excuse does not always justify ones actions. I suggest you tread lightly because you are not immune to these same feelings, the pain and heartache you save may be your own.

End:Closures

Sometimes things have to end badly or they wouldn’t end… I cannot remember when or where I first heard that, but I think there is a great deal of truth to that statement.

We want the ride to be longer, the concert to have one more song, our vacation to last just one more day….I think of a movie that I am particularly fond of “Groundhog Day”. Whether the main character wanted the day to end or not, it just wouldn’t. The writers played with that situation well; first the disbelief, then the need to escape, followed by the need to control things. The character found a way to capitalize off of his predicament, but what did he really learn.

The natural order of things dictates a beginning, a middle, and an end. When it is good we don’t want it to end , but when it is what we deem to be bad we can hardly wait for it to be over. Honestly, everything is going to end and a stopping point is very important.

It seems the television media learned all of this regarding “ends” first. Can you recall how series used to go on and on until the ratings fell off and the network was forced to pull the plug? Now when a series is created there are or at least seem to be set time periods. Even if it is a success, the series has been predetermined to run “x” amount of years. This make sense kids grow up on television, people move in and out of lives. If television is to mirror life it has to be realistic on some vein.

I am reminded of a song, “Stop To Start” by Blue Magic.  At every end awaits a new beginning. We look forward to that beginning but the end…. not normally the case. Circumstance always weighs in heavily of course. Comfort levels, decorum, and tact have to be of concern. Sometimes our attempts to soften blows backfire and explode in our faces. I suggest that you seek balance.

Therefore in those time of uncomfortable “ends” or your desperately sought after “closures” reflect upon this.  Just as I am reminded of church and scripture here in this piece, not planned simply appropriate. John 16:33 It is in regards to our relationship with God and our dealings in life. It speaks of how the Lord never promised us that life would be easy, but only that He would never leave us alone. I feel confident that surviving a mere phase or cycle that is part of life, can be dealt with gracefully.

May I Have Your Attention Please; ALL OF YOUR ATTENTION !

Does this make you think of a spoiled little child? It sounds like one. Can’t you just picture the folded little arms and pouty face? However, this is addressing the spoiled little child that exists in us adults. They cry out” look at me, listen to me; but the important thing is you in some way, fashion or form you recognize “ME”. You see them in stores, standing in lines at your local favorite restaurant.  You want to leave where you are because of them. I submit this to you though, is that person you.

I imagine we may think we are just demanding respect and recognition. One should give way to our obvious wisdom. However, unlike the times of our parents young people today really do not care what older people think, nor do they care how we feel. Young people are concerned with being young and do not want to deal with the fact that if they are fortunate, they too one day may be  what they consider old.

Armed with the knowledge that you are not going to get an automatic pass because of your maturity, wouldn’t it be wise to behave in a fashion that exudes respect. Do not allow your fear of being over-looked cause you to be singled out. Our patience is wearing thin and our tempers are short, but that does not mean it is okay to be mean.

A very dear friend once told me in my forties that I should not do something, exactly what escapes me, because I did not want to be perceived as old and sour. At the time I really did not think at my age I had that to worry about, but what she was telling me was in forming those bad habits at that time in my life, well it may not be so easy to change and as you age change is not always a choice. Finally, who wants to be around some mean, cantankerous soul? Watch yourself because others are watching you, and maybe you will get the attention you deserve with the desired effects.

Find Fine Art

I think of Tchaikofsky’s ” The Nutcracker Suite” or Swan Lake” I envision Monet, Renior, and Dali…. but no one hold me in a trance like William “Smokey” Robinson. His contributions from “My Girl” to “Oooh Baby Baby”, some 605 songs, speak of love in a way only a poet could describe and only a romantic could understand. Whatever draws your attention make sure you hold it dear; for life without Art is a life without beauty, life without meaning.

I think of how the children suffer in an era where fine arts programs are considered an option.  Art is as necessary and important as the giant three of old; reading, writing, and mathematics. We look for ways to trim the fat off a budget, but do we really take into account of what we are loosing when it is all said and done.

Taking fine arts as an expendable item will result in virtual disaster. At best we can have a society of efficient, dull,  mundane, mechanical  beings ( the conformists) The worse will breed individuals(the rule-breakers) who have too much time to figure out  things that will excite them and that doesn’t necessarily mean they will be good things. We all know the story of “Idle hands”.

Some thirty seven years ago there was a radio station in Los Angeles called  KJOI ; now no self respecting pre-teen of that era would openly admit to listening to such a station, for it was exactly what you might imagine Easy Listening. When we had soul music stations KGFJ and KDAY what was I thinking about? Well maybe the more mature ear can appreciate one of my favorites, Percy Faith’s Instrumental Version of “Midnite At The Oasis”. During a tumultuous time in my life that soft song brought me a calming much needed slumber.  I was well into adulthood before I knew the name of that song or that it even had words. The name Maria Muldar was as foreign to me as the language of the then Soviet Union. I began to equate it with something good was on the horizon.

However, the way I see it pertaining to us is like this; amiss our routine and responsible duties there has to be a place of expression and individuality, where beautiful and unique connect. It is important for the young impressionable minds of school aged children, and it is needed by the seasoned adult who may find themselves too busy to appreciate how it can alter our days.

Aren’t They Grand?

I met her on June 21,2010 at 11:08 a.m. in Atlanta, Georgia. I was told this would be a magnificent experience. I was told that she would change my life like no one else I had even met. Instead of scoffing in disbelief, I gave a smile and generally a polite nod of acknowledgment. All the while thinking,” Okay, aren’t we overstating this just a tad…?” However, I have to say what I was told and the actual event itself..well word cannot express.

I am a people watcher by nature; I grew up in Southern California where famous, beautiful people are everywhere. If you allow yourself to be “star-struck” you are in for some very long, interrupted days. Besides, they are just people.

I remember walking through the door and my focus went straight to her. It seemed as thought SHE was illuminating the room. It hit me immediately, I covered my mouth and smiled. There was a quiet excitement going on within. I was subdued and overwhelmed simultaneously. I walked toward her and stopped. My son smiled and said something, I cannot recall his words I was too busy looking at her. He motioned for me to hold her, and I started to take her then I said give her to your Dad I need pictures, but I didn’t take pictures . I let my husband hold her first because I wasn’t able to touch her right then and there at that moment. All I could do was look on at her and say, ” Oh, just look at YOU” over and over. The first picture I took of her was with her grandfather and Uncle Jay. I knew at that moment it did not matter who was there first, who took the first photo, etc. what mattered was her.

Unable to speak but of only that experience, I am going to say I believe that it will be equally wonderful for each subsequent grandchild’s birth. I know the love I feel will be as indescribable and overwhelming as it was with my first one’s arrival. I believe that they are all magnificent. All the signs and indicators point to this. My friends, colleagues, associates and passing strangers; I see them with these special little folks they all have these silly smiles, or speak in funny voices as they  stumble and struggle to do things they wouldn’t normally do if it weren’t for the babies.

So now we, my contemporaries and I, share this another milestone of life. We venture into the land of “grand-parenthood” and I must say, it is GRAND!

I’m With Stupid

Ah the catchy tee shirt slogans of the 70’s. Some genius came up with the idea of telling other people what was on our minds without having to be bold and/or brave enough to actually vocalize it. Furthermore,  if it was offensive you had the built in excuse, it’s just a tee shirt don’t take things so seriously.

“I’m with stupid” holds a special place with me. I consider myself a relatively intelligent person, yet the reason I  feel the way I do about this particular slogan is that I have, on more than one occasion, felt as though the arrow in that slogan should be pointing to me. Somehow, somewhere along the road life has taken me on, I thought I would be making better decisions. I thought I would be wiser than in my youth and while this is all arguable so, I am still wondering why I am still able to manage doing stupid things. Is it that we somehow mistake the fact we have passed a certain chronological phase it places us in a higher intelligence level? The phase does pass  though; people do stop saying, ” They are much to old for that type of behavior”. Now they just think it.

Just as we relate death and age, it takes us a lifetime to realize that age and death have very little to with one another.  A young person dies and the first thing we note is, “______ was so young.”As a side note we never say” It was horribly insensitive of his lungs to give out after filling with water, didn’t they know he was only 14 years old. ” Perhaps this just illustrates that we really do not become smarter/ wiser with age.

Over the years there have been countless films, books, and screenplays about having the magical power to go back in time to re-do this or alter the course of that. I must admit I enjoyed these pieces of entertainment. I did exactly what the writers wanted. I said, “I wonder what I would do if given that opportunity again”. I question my readers, does this ever happen to you? Do you ever wish for that opportunity? Funny thing happened to me very recently though I asked myself, “What if this was the case, what if you were able to go back and get that “do over” with the awareness of what was to come and you ended up doing the exact same things?” It feels like The Twilight Zone to me. Therefore, pardon me while I escort “stupid” to another place.

Feels Good, To Feel Good

How many times can you watch a feel good movie? A movie that restores, if only for a couple of hours your faith in the human spirit.  the magical silver screen lets us escape to the romantic places that may not a part of our real everyday lives. It doesn’t matter if it is a true story like “The Blind Side” or  fiction like “The Karate Kid”.  Sometimes it’s the love story- comically growing up,”Can‘t Buy Me Love”; the love story- eternally serious “Wuthering Heights”; or the love story- self revealing and self discovering, “Something New”. Ordinary folk doing something extraordinary, overcoming life’s obstacles. Love that is conquering and triumphant.  These stories always make my heart skip a beat or two and that is great, because at my age it could easily be a health problem.

Our realities make the brief visits to happy places,  longed for and very welcomed. We are such a busy group that we do not take time out to, in fact smell the roses. Come on back with me to a Saturday around noon and the corny theme song to a made up rock and roll group began to play, announcing to all “here they come”. The guys were not more than cartoon characters themselves, doing silly things and getting into trouble, but alas there was always a happy ending. As time went on we got a glimpse of real life musicians who looked more like us, but they were ironically cartoons. We would later find out their existence was far, far away from the happiness and freedom of the cartoon lives portrayed on the television.

Saturdays still means escape to us. The beginning of OUR weekend. The part of the week where we don’t have to do anything that we don’t want to. We can sleep in late, because we made the schedule and we say what is on time. We don’t have any classes, so we don’t have to make sure homework was done the night before. We don’t even have to get dressed. This part of the week is ours to design and shape the way we want it to be.

It is short lived though. We sometimes feel sad, anxious, frustrated before it begins. Why can’t we have more time with our beloved weekend.

Here is a parting thought. Smile with me as we revisit the very first time you fell in love; mind you this is the love that only happens once in your life, because never again will you have the innocent heart required for this particular feeling of love. Loving someone and being in love are two very different experiences. Remember, if he or she went to school with you, you couldn’t wait to get to school to see that wonderful, special, incredibly good-looking being. The mere thought of them made your heart feel funny; be it skipping a beat or racing, it wasn’t acting or feeling normal. This fabulous unproductive time in your life, had you peeking from behind an obstacle or staring aimlessly into space. My theory is, though wonderful tributes of song and literature have been borne of this experience, it is not while the individuals were in the grasp of the experience. I can’t imagine how they could do anything, but be captivated by the source of their affection. It feels like an eternity and a heartbeat simultaneously. SLAP! In your life outside of being in love; not sleeping, not eating, thinking of only one thing would make you a physical and mental wreck. Another SLAP back to the feel good place. I have to end this on happy.  Search and figure out a way to carry that springtime, take-your-breathe-away feeling with you, at least for a little while everyday.

Fairy Tales with Phosphorus

“And they lived happily ever after”….  You guessed it this is about relationships or at least ideas about relationships. My parents were married until the day my father passed away. I NEVER witnessed an argument or even  a cross word between them. It is no surprise, at least to me, that I married my “dream” the love of my life. I had a picture of what an ideal relationship would be and I got just what I asked for.  My siblings have had mixed results. My closest friend were products of , if I can steal a boxing term, “split decisions”. Now I could try to sell you on how exposure to certain relationships make you predestined to that type of relationship and that would be based solely on my experience.  Then I would have to explain the sibs, thus poking a hole in the theory.

I once heard “you have the exact love life you want”. That sounds reasonable, if you are happy. What if you aren’t? Why on Earth would someone want a relationship that isn’t perfect? Did you ever ask for something you thought you wanted, and then once you got it changed your mind. Now could you  have seen yourself with an obsessive, jealous individual. Of course not, but what about someone who is zealously attentive or someone who cannot get you out of their mind. Chew on that for a bit.

We grew up in the midst of a divorce rate that reached the 50% mark, but in the back of our minds we could clearly recall folks whispering about a marriage breaking up. The “D” word became as common as bacon and eggs yet as taboo as devil worshiping, and we were stuck in the middle wondering how we would cope. Remember now, we have the exact love life we want.  I submit this to you; we are always running, running away from or running toward something. Maybe we need to slow down and walk, or if necessary just simply stop.

Let’s return to the personal place this writer’s history; parents married till death parted them, their children all married.The end result so far 1 divorced, 3 still married, 1 admittedly with the exact love life they wanted. To be continued….

Here’s a test to see if you are paying attention; can you tell if this writer is happy, is this piece a promotion, bashing, or warning for marriage. You have to read me closely.

Finally, my “happily ever after” couple tribute. They have been a couple since high school; they are parents and grandparents, apparently he is still her football star and she is still his beauty queen. The thought of them makes me smile. I am thrilled to say I know them now, and I knew them when.