hafacenturyncounting

Motivated by a lack of material.

Archive for the category “Order of Appearance”

21 Aug 2014

Love People

Sometimes I surf the internet. One picture will motivate me to visit a site next thing I know it is midnight.  I have been noticing over the past decades there are a lot of really gorgeous children being born.  Is it the grandmother in me? Perhaps, but I see these little happy folks and I cannot help but smile. They are the best of humanity, they are what we all are until life and cynicism ruins us. They look at a flower and it’s color makes them happy. They don’t run from or smash it because of it’s particular shade they adore and admire it just as it is. We adults in turn have nothing but praises for the babies, “aren’t you the prettiest, sweetest, smartest, most talented little one we have ever seen. And we don’t care who you belong to.

Fast forward about 15 years, those beautiful wonder-filled beings are now starting to make decisions and voice their opinions. They are now met with, “You don’t know what you are talking about, Why don’t you behave better, What are you listening to and What is that you are wearing?” They go from the Apples of Society’s Eye to Menaces to Society in less than two short decades. All the while their main critics forgetting they once occupied that very same place in life. The reason being no one wants to stay in that place of confusion, indecision, and turmoil. We wonder what is wrong with our children as they begin to mature. We love them always, but are challenged to like them. I recall a woman I saw many years ago at the mall in Alpharetta;she was neat and tidy, dressed in a suit, had corporate America written all over her. She was carrying a Louis Vutton purse and every hair was in place. As she approached the counter in the young men’s department at Rich’s(region department store now out of business) this surly, thin,  greasy haired young man dressed in goth-type clothing came to and stood next to her. I expected her to jump out of her skin because he was so far away from who she was, but after a moment you knew this was not just someone she knew, this was her child. The were a curious pair walking out of the store. I shook my head and thought, “You never know..”

These two made me think of how we judge and make decisions about OUR young people. We have issues with our own children, so it is hard to imagine us being any more tolerant of someone elses’ and guess what, we aren’t. Do any of you recall that time in your life? The time when your music basically made your parents or most any adult grimace at the very least. The time when self discovery was coupled with fear and insecurity. The time when your excuse of being young and not responsible was fading into, ” It is your fault, You know better.” The thing that MUST be taken into consideration here is, it was a time of transitions.

Time marches forward some more. Now we have an adult he may be in our workplace being difficult or perhaps she has gotten into trouble and landed herself in jail. The significant thing here in both of these cases is; once these throwaways, these social irritants, were adorable sweet faced babies that we  all loved to love.

Too bad we don’t get to transform ourselves from beautiful-adorable baby to upstanding-citizen adult. However, that is  not our reality. We are human and we are flawed. Your flaws look a lot more serious than mine because I am judging, but then I must consider that door swings both ways that I am also on the receiving end of judgment. My son often speaks of loving without condition; from a Christian point of view, this is a difficult goal but at least it is a goal that is presented to us on a  weekly basis( although it should be a constant basis). Perhaps if we ALL task ourselves with this loving one another without condition on a regular-targeted basis, we could get closer to the goal as well. As human beings if we aren’t challenged we vegetate and die, so it is with ideas and concepts. Take the challenge and make your contribution towards solving the problem of just Loving People without condition and stipulations.  “Shoot for the moon” here, people “because if you miss you will still land among the stars…”

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07 Aug 2014
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Yes It Can And Does Happen In Your Neighborhood

Listening to the crickets chirp, watching the lightening bugs float around the night, a slight hint of gardenia in the air, and sporadic sounds of life. We have several family of deer living among us; rabbits and chipmunks try to stay out of the way of the cats, various dogs walk their owners during daylight and night time. Tonight an eerie shadow is cast upon us, the inhabitants of this safe enclave  just a little north of Atlanta. I look down to the end of my block and the un-naturally  lit, lifeless house serves as a reminder of the events of the day.

How many times have you watched the news and heard someone who is interviewed say,’This kind of thing doesn’t happen here. This is such a nice neighborhood”. I cringe each time. I say, ” What are you thinking idiot, your community is immune to bad occurrences?”Today I would have been that idiot. While I may have not verbalized my feelings, it certainly was my thought pattern and behavior as well.

I  heard the beeping sound of a truck backing up at 6:30 A.M.; it is trash day, but still early. The blue and red lights flashing  from various police as well as fire department services illuminate the block. Yellow tape surround the house in question, that is NOT a good sign. About a dozen officers enter the location and about five minutes later they emerge, but there is an odd scene as a woman being rolled out in a sitting position follows. I see a few familiar faces down the block but cannot get to them because the police have created a barricade on my block.

Later we would find out there was a murder and a home invasion. Later we would find out the two children who lived there survived but they we not unharmed one physically but both impacted psychologically. Later we would find out the perpetrators were still at large. Later we would find out it was the first and only murder that had happened this year in our fair city. However for now we are in a state of shock, denial, and disbelief.

You might ask, why are we all so disheveled;  I have many times when I was simply an observer of others in similar neighborhoods. What makes us think that simply because we live among those we deem to be upstanding citizens, people who keep their lawns tidy and their houses painted, that their lives are as spotless as these home’s exteriors. We bought into an illusion and in that illusion good people you live next door to don’t argue, don’t have abuse going on, don’t hoard animals and debris. The people we live down the block from mind their own business, but they look out for their neighbors. We can leave our doors unlocked, parcels can sit on the porch or in the driveway without  the worry of someone who does not belong here entering our places or taking our things. We wave at passersby so they will know we are good folk, but we are watching you.

We have all allowed ourselves to forget the common denominator, we are all just people not immune to the flaws and frailties that make us all human. This kind of thing doesn’t happen in our kind of community, but somehow it just did.

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13 Jun 2014

My Life Through Malls

hafacenturyncounting's avatarhafacenturyncounting

As I sat watching my husband and granddaughter ride the merry-go-round I was transported back  through time and space to Torrance, California;  her father was about 3 years old riding this imported merry-go-round with his “Auntie Jennifer” (I even have a picture) at the “Old Towne Mall”. That mall housed old fashioned shops, glass-bowers, etc. ; it never caught on, it survived for decades but it slowly disappeared into oblivion like the “Carson Mall”, “The Hawthorne Mall”, “Gwinnett Place Mall”, to name a few I had encounters with. However, even before that as a teen when the mall phenomenon was just catching on my life-long friend(i.e just like a sister, only our parents are different) Kim and I spent many Saturdays at the nearby malls. We would spend hours there with money that would barely buy lunch, no wait  a cookie and a drink now…

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13 Jun 2014

What Is It About Richard?

hafacenturyncounting's avatarhafacenturyncounting

I woke to the sound of birds singing, bright sunshine and cold! Ah yes but Spring is here. The music that is playing in my mind is “Under The Bridges Of Paris” the instrumental from Shall We Dance.  “What is it about Richard”, I ask myself.

Come on now, we all have these imagesof what the ideal romantic mate would be like.  Richard Gere is mine. It is fantasy, and it is fun! I loved and lusted after the likes of Billy Dee Williams, Denzel Washington, Boris Kodjoie to name only a few. No one can hold a candle to Brad Pitt in the looks department and he is/has become basically a saint in my eyes now. However Richard… he will always make me believe what I want to believe, that love/amour is like the scent of  jasmine flowers floating past you on a spring day, unforgettable.

What…

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13 Jun 2014

Looking Forward

hafacenturyncounting's avatarhafacenturyncounting

It was that time again, the annual physical.THANKFULLY! Now I am not one of those folks who dreads doctors and hospitals. I have been a rather healthy individual. I have had bouts with weight, but other that that I have been blessed. I was also blessed to be back in a “situation”that allowed me to once again have health care benefits.

I start the process late January early February. I did the vision, dental, and medical within days of one another. Everything was as I suspected. I got contact lenses for the first time and I had a couple of cavities to be filled.I came through the annoying/uncomfortable female screenings with flying colors. All in all for someone who has not been under a doctor’s care since 2009, I have to say I was happy.

Now the fact that I could lose 15 to 20 pounds did not make me…

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19 May 2014
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For Your Own Good

Famous last words; generally followed by something the recipient cannot actually see that way (i.e. foul tasting medicine, an impending spanking, etc.).

Yet in retrospect the hard lessons teach you how to be resilient. As we progress through these 50’s the most prevalent thing I notice about our group is the need to do what WE want; much like the way we were some 45 plus years ago.

Such a good feeling right; doing what YOU want, having it YOUR way. “Be careful with that pistol folks it loaded.” I watch this older guy(and I won’t call him a gentleman because his behavior was not demonstrative of one) thrash about a parking lot as though he was going to a fire. Now we all know in a parking lot, just as on the street, there IS a speed limit. Well no one told “Mario Geriatric” OR he chose not to adhere to this knowledge. I watched as he pulled into a parking space like he was going to drive through the car in front of him. There were people in the  other car he came so close to and an altercation ensued.  Maybe they threw him a dirty look, maybe there was a jester of “what are you doing, watch out”, or another infamous one that calls for the use of one’s middle finger. The seasoned race car driver hopped out of the car cursing and belligerently egging on a rather tall, fit, obviously younger man. Young men are generally not lacking in the testosterone department and seemingly this old guy was going to show he still had a drop or two in him. Happily, I can say this ended in only ugly words and dirty looks. Logic and reason prevailed, THANK GOD!

Yet the questions are raised. Why did this happen, who was wrong? Well if we start with the older guy we have to say a couple things; you are NOT as young, fast, or alert as you used to be. Things happen in split seconds and then what.. you are sorry or in trouble for something that could have been completely avoided. I imagine that same guy is someone’s grandfather, maybe a veteran and adored by those who love him. He has paid his dues, and he deserves respect, and he feels justified in doing what he wants. He still has to realize there are consequences for everyone and retirement, paid dues, etc do not give you free reign.  Someone, somewhere has given you bad information.

We grew up being taught to respect our elders, well now some of the ones who would be deemed elders, are behaving in fashions NOT worthy of respect. Now they do not get  pass on their bad tempers and fowl mouths simply because they are old. If that younger man had hit that older guy because he has a temper too,  how wrong would he have been.  Hey we are  approaching older and we are still doing it like we are in our 30’s and looking good in the process of in many cases. Have we learn our lessons, did we get enough of the for-your-own-good experience or are we going to venture into territory that will lead us to a sea of regret.

I anxiously await 2015 when I can retire and do what I WANT (of sorts). If I continue to work, I am no longer ambitious or goal driven. Depending on the job or manager that can be a Catch 22 thing.  My focal point is ME. I do NOT want to be “the employee who..”  I also don’t think working 40 hours a week will sit well with me either. I also don’t want to sit around and watch daytime television.  Employment issues are only one aspect of what is in store for those in our group. The one sure thing is it’s all about me.

Suffice to say the ME concept is well ingrained.  I will bear in mind, simply because I have reached a milestone in my life there are others who still must hustle to get to this stage,and their speedometers are set at a faster rate. Rather than be run over by someone moving too fast and my lifeless body is the proof, Ima simply move over and let them pass by me. This I feel, will be for my own good. Besides I am where they are trying to get to.

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04 May 2014
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“What’s Inside”

Over the years there have been stories about how things are not what they appear to be. People are that way as well. No one knows who lurking in our psyche, oftentimes we don’t know ourselves. There are the personal secrets, one of mine is I am addicted to “bubblegum rock”. I think this is because I was a hippie in another time, and that other time exists in my mind. This place feels very natural and very real. It  does not explain why I have no rhythm yet want to sing and dance, instead I chose to sit silently and not dare even bob my head or tap my foot.

The bright colors, the peace signs, “flower-power” hanging out in a park all day; that is a big part of she who shapes me. However, you’d have to look past my exterior to see this person. That exterior is almost as much an illusion as what is formulated in our minds about who we truly are.

Perhaps you can remember the slogan tee shirts of the 1970’s; this first one that comes to mind is the yellow happy face which said Have A Nice Day, of course there were many others and some of them quite risque’. The snug fit and letter/word placement often drew attention to passive-aggressive attempts at subtlety. I had one that said, “The Best Part Is Inside” placed strategically across the chest; on a guy one might look right past those words, but on a young lady. Well a hormonally charged young man could and often times would seize an opportunity to be charmingly-flirty, disgustingly-crude, or a combination of them all. Plus that was the intention in the first place.

How many times have you heard , “Watch out for the quiet ones”. How many times have you found the rowdy party-animal to be a conservationist that  does foster-care for small woodland creatures. While no one really knows what’s on your mind or be acquainted with that alter- ego that may present themselves at the most inopportune moment the question is;

Do YOU know what’s inside of you?

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23 Feb 2014
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Now I Am “Miss Eileen, Older Lady Esq.”

Well it happened; I returned to the work world, and it was a happy return. Being an entrepreneur has had its ups-and-downs. I have not given up totally, but simply need some things right this instant.

I took a job that has me on the P.M. shift, and during certain seasons here in Georgia, it gets cold at night(later I would realize this was a poor excuse). I have never been a pants type of girl, but the job has prompted me to become one. So there it is, use of the term “girl” referencing myself. Well what’s wrong with that I think;  I am still vibrant and healthy, when I bother to take time I still can hold my own, or so I think/thought. I chuckle as I write this, because more and more I see the vanity rising from the ashes of my youth.

One day a younger woman was walking along side of me in the hall as we left class together, we have been in training for several weeks now. She is a tall shapely lady, pretty face, well coiffed hair. She says to me, ” I hope you aren’t uncomfortable because I know you see me staring at you.” I replied to the contrary. She said, “It is just that you remind me of my MOTHER so much.” I smiled and said,”Oh really.” She was excited and happy I suppose, because I hadn’t noticed her stares.  I did not know what else to say so I replied,” That is funny, but you know it is said we all have a twin..” I kept smiling. I cannot say I was flattered or bothered; that is until I relayed the story, over and over and over again.

The image of Goldie Hawn in “The First Wives Club” resonated in my mind. The scene where Goldie’s character is told, by a younger prettier actress, how happy and excited she was to have Goldie Hawn cast as HER mother. Goldie was white and frozen faced. I hoped I did not have that look on my face, but was not at all sure. Disney villainesses like Cruella De Vil, Snow White’s  and Cinderella’s  respective Evil Stepmothers, Maleficent  and my personal favorite Ursula(love that name)flashed before me. Each of them older, beyond child-baring years; gray, white streaked, or covered hair, dark, sinister, evil and angry that “young and pretty” existed and they were no longer a part of that world. Unable to embrace what time had given to them, because they were so concentrated on what it had taken away from them instead.

Yet, none of the positives of aging occurred to me  or obviously that the process was beginning to take shape in my life. Then a couple of weeks later when, I stood outside of my co-worker friend’s cubicle while our “coach” was having a discussion in which he used a few curse words. Now I must tell you during my life I have heard a curse word or two, I have actually used a curse word or two, but what happened subsequent to this is what is interesting. Our coach who is younger than me said, ” Oh I am sorry I have to reminded myself to watch what I say around OLDER people…” Whatever he said beyond that I basically turned off. My opinion of this man changed(I am being honest my ego took a HIT and I was pissed with him). He is not an especially young man nor is he my age, but from his appearance I know we are closer to class mates than being on opposing sides of the “generation gap”.

Alright, my hair is  salt and pepper( I get many compliments on it), I dress conservatively (in reality uncharacteristic of ME would be a better description) my patience is not at it’s peak, and I do not learn or retain at the level or speed I used to. I have changed and I came to grips with perhaps my “sexy” has abandoned me, along with several other attributes of my younger years. I wasn’t really paying attention to it, but now suddenly it was gone. Taken for granted and ignored, I woke up and it was gone. Wow, that was a bit distressing. It is amazing how our perceptions  interfere with true sight. Now the only person I remind folks of is someone that has experienced a bit of life. There is nothing wrong with being a mother. I have two sons and a granddaughter, why should I trip? Well because it took a series of events to remind me that I was not quite ready to inhabit the “rest home”.  Although my behavior suggested otherwise;  I work -out 5 days a week, I take the stairs  from the forth floor several times a day in an 8 hour period by choice without ramifications, and stiletto heels are still a part of my wardrobe.

While I was in the midst of doing so many other things in my life, transitioning into other stuff, I lost sight of ME and who I truly am inside. I didn’t even know these changes were only scratching the surface of what was really going on. Upon realizing this, with the help of my friend(MJ), I had to come to grips that losing me was affecting every other aspect of my life; from performing at my new job to my interaction with my granddaughter. I  said to myself, “I AM Miss Eileen and this is who Miss Eileen is.  Miss Eileen is gonna do Miss Eileen the way she always has, as long as she has the strength, vitality, and desire to do just that. Furthermore, I am gonna feel just fine in doing as such.” The proclamation helped me “rise from the ashes” and move forward.

Therefore when you get stuck or overwhelmed, rest assured the answer is waiting in the wings, sometimes you just have to take out your glasses and look for it.

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15 Feb 2014

Hoardertown, U.S.A.

Duluth, Georgia quiet suburb northeast of Atlanta. Part of Gwinnett County one of the largest if not the largest counties in Georgia. Diverse in a demographic sense and down-right picturesque. However, if you look closely we have an on-going problem. Hoarders love Duluth.

I live next door to a hoarder. Now over the years I have to say, I must consider myself very fortunate. I say this because there is a bit of gypsy in me (I have moved around). Coming from a family that stayed in one house almost all of my childhood(and my mother still lives in that home), I have to take into account changes are minimal when you stay in one place. Neighbors become familiar and if you are lucky they are extended family.
While I grew up with that, in my adult life the experience has been different.

Searching for an ideal location, jobs, and economics have played a role on my semi-transient lifestyle. People want to believe they have a right to do whatever they please in the place they call HOME. While in many instances this is true, one must remember one small addendum should be included in that thought pattern; it only holds true as long as you do NOT interfere with others right to enjoy their respective homes.

Many hoarders have mental defects, but can still function somewhat normal. Therefore, their environment looks one way to them and quite different to others. My hoarder neighbor is no different. His living space, the exterior of his mothers home screams to passers-by,” there’s a problem at this house”.
What must it be like to be lost in illusions, what must it be like to have nothing so you imagine the rubbish and refuse you pick up along the road is important.  Couple that with his identity is directly connected to his “stuff” and that “stuff” is worthless thereby translating onto “he” is worthless.
I on one hand pity him but on the other hand want nothing more than for him,and all that is associated with him to disappear.
I wish I could say I don’t hate him, but that is not true. Hate is the first word I would associate with this man and his mother. It is a genuine effort for me to rise above this distasteful feeling. I do not want to relinquish the power the bad thought pattern associated with the word “hate” holds , but do not want to be the bigger person  either. I would try like to see them suffer because they deserve it and I am further angered by his mere existence and this has made me become more primitive. On my better days my wish is for him to simply vanish.
One must always remember that others have rights;this fact makes our society great but during your personal battles the appreciation for this is not foremost on your mind. As I combed through city and county codes, as I contacted agency after agency, as my frustration mounted I saw how our great system allows people who clearly have mental defects to walk and live among us. We, the so-called normal ones ,those if us who are only mildly deranged and manage to remember to take our meds; we must endure and accept people who whether consciously or unconsciously would deny or interfere with us exercising those very same rights. You run into a brick wall most of the time and heaven forgive you if you be incorrect on any level as you seek a remedy for your problematic neighbor. It feels like you are being punished for making these agencies work.

Solution the pen is mightier than the sword . Enlist news services and social media. Contact city, county, state representatives make them work. If you must endure this annoyances, literally let them feel your pain. I believe wholeheartedly the reason we have the animal hoarders and hoarders in general is because it take so very long to get to step one in the process of making these people comply to laws, rules and regulations, and if you let up for even a moment the process has to begin again. No one wants their lives to revolve around such negativity but you must be aware if you stop your problem will not only return, it will persist and worsen.
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25 Jan 2014

Why Does The Writer……

Why does the writer… well of course the question ends with the word “write”. In my in-between state(before deciding to and actually getting up) a song came to mind. I could hear it faintly in a far off sort of way, audible but not distinguishable. My thoughts went to Dr. Seuss, for my childhood was filled with his books, and this nagging thought finally helped me out of bed. It kept tugging at me, it didn’t seem quite right. I positioned myself in front of my laptop and as I scanned my e-mail I realized it was not Dr. Seuss but a song from The Little Drummer Boy ringing in my ear “Why Can’t The Animals Smile”. Little Aaron’s puppet face appeared to me with the painted smile, plastered on his face because his hardened heart made him a boy who felt like he had no reason to smile.

Writers know that when the writing comes to you, that is the time you have to stop what you are doing and simple write. It may wake you up at 3:45 in the morning, or in a class, or waiting for the kids outside of their school. Fortunately for the writer, as well as their audience, technology has saved many a manuscript, screenplay, novel-in-the-making. However, none of the available resources mean anything, if the writer doesn’t write.

We all have stories; I think writers possess the ability to recount theirs more detailed, with accurately, and can express varying vantage points more so than others. I am not taking away the credit for the unmistakable talent, but the talent is subtle. In a world where loud and high visibility are key in terms of success, printed words can go along hidden in plain sight for a very long time. Thus so does the writer.  We obtain comfort from words, like a warm blanket on a cold winter night. There is strength in our expressions of the written word; our laughter, joy, and pain stare back at you from the pages or the screen. Many times you see yourselves in our words but know that those words are a part of us as distinguishable as DNA. We just tell you how we feel and make you aware that all of our lives, as individual as they are, remain intertwined and connected. That is why you run across something in a book, magazine or newspaper that tells a story which could very well be yours; a tale of something that has happened or is happening to you. As musicians fill our lives with massaging comfort to our ears, as artist illuminates our eyes with the beauty of color,  we are the gift of conscious thought.

Why does the writer write? We write for the sheer love of writing, we write to free our minds, we write for you.

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