Hoardertown, U.S.A.
|
hafacenturyncounting
Motivated by a lack of material.
Archive for the category “Order of Appearance”
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.
He’s Just A Man
So I am looking at pictures of my favorite President in candid shots with babies and children. I am thinking “Wow what a seemingly great guy” . Living has taught me the lessons of cynicism. While I may not want people who despise my President to know exactly how I feel, I do want followers, friends, and loved ones to know. I take that risk.
Early in 2007 I didn’t know who he was; later that year I stayed up 24 hours watching election polls and returns to see if he would make history, and another 24 afraid to go to sleep fearing I’d wake from a dream. I cannot list each and every accomplishment,victory, or failure. I cannot tell you which personal attack on him, his character, his family has angered me the most. There have been many though.
President Barack Obama is like a sibling you don’t get along with. Over the years there will be disagreements, arguments, times of estrangement ; you will battle with having ill-feelings towards this sibling. On the worst of times you will tell yourself you don’t care, that this individual has put themself in a category not worthy of the perks of being family. Then there will be times you will concede, the bloodline matters. I still say through it all the admiration for this President exists in my mind and at high levels.
I have to remind myself (even though in a conscious state I’d say,”I know”) he is just a man. I do not believe either of his opponents in the previous elections could have done a better job. I KNOW they would NOT have had their ability, skills, and knowledge challenged immediately because of visuals( interpret that any way you chose). I think the job of President is a difficult and thankless job, that only a “fool” would WANT. I haven’t agreed with all things he has done. I haven’t understood many decisions he has made, stances he has taken. However, I KNOW I am NOT equipped to do that job and as a self appointed judge and critic (as most of us who have NOT held that job are) one must acknowledge and admit to being ill-prepared and all one can offer is opinion, no matter how we try to dress or disguise it. We simply do what most humans do.
As I place many of my”cards-on-the-table” here I have to admit in spite of knowing President Obama could not right all that is wrong in this country, secretly, like a child wishes for a fantasy character to be real, I wished he would have been able to fix these United States of America. I told myself this many times, but I wished for the “fixing”many, many more times.
He is poised , intelligent, educated, charming and seemingly kind
I’d be lying of I told you how I am over him. I love this guy; aside from him digressing to making a KANYE WEST type statement, he will remain in a spot I admire and respect. For the record I support him. Moreover lets just break it down to sheer logic; if children and babies love him, what can we say?
A Christmas Memoire and More
As I look back over these hafacenturynmore years ,there are recollections of Christmases gone by. There are nothing but good feelings and happiness attached to each of them. If I had to rank them, I’d be lost. Perhaps it is because I truly love this time of year. I think of how the center of my happiness has changed.
As a child there was always the anticipation of getting that one special, important thing and seeing all my relatives. I came from two large families, 7 aunts and uncles from both sides, the holiday meal was as exciting as opening packages. Moving on after I had children of my own, there was the effort to make their dreams come true. Sneaking items in the house, serving as “watchdog” as my husband put bikes and other assorted toys together. Our families were considerably smaller and more intimate, but no less enjoyable.
One year I woke up and realized all I wanted was the happiness, and it was not in a box or gift bag placed carefully under the tree. I anxiously waited for the time of year when people, people you knew and ones you did not chose to be pleasant to one another. Enduring the search for parking spaces at malls, fighting through the crowds in stores was made bearable by the back ground of Christmas Carols and beauty of the decorations all around. Then before you knew what was happening the contagion spread; you found yourself smiling, greeting everyone you made eye contact with and you were actually making an effort to make eye contact. For a few short days every year, people let the selfishness go. Every year I wished for that felling to carry on throughout the year, for it felt like a warm blanket wrapped around you.
Now as I await the arrival of the day that has been a source of happiness on countless levels; knowing I will see the sparkling light in the eyes of my granddaughter, I hope and pray that she will one day be able to enjoy and exist in a world that embraces the kindness, hope, and joy that the Christmas holiday brings each and every day. A little effort on all of our parts can make that a reality and I beseech that effort from you.
Let me start; with a smile and eye contact, I wish you all a wonderful day, a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
Uh… Discussion About Race
Well here we go.. AGAIN. I stood uneasy and in disbelief! Just when I think he cannot be more insensitive and tactless he proves me wrong. I was livid and sweating bullets at the same time. I mean this guy is a friend and a valued customer. How can I recoup this obvious flub. My mind raced. The more time that passed, the farther from an answer my mind wandered. At last on a seemingly good note we all parted.
On the way home making general conversation ,I could NOT wait for an opportunity to tell my spouse how terrible I thought he was. I had the adjectives and nouns lined up. I was prepared to be as condescending as possible, for he needed to know, just because you feel and think one way it doesn’t give you the right to just go off on these tangents with people you claim to like…
I began with a simple question to bait the trap. “Did you realize that you were talking to someone white when you said that”, I asked. He replied, “yes..” Well with both barrel blazing I prepared to attack, but he through me for a loop and I had to re-group and re-consider. He continued, ” Why do you think it is that we in this country time and time again, talk about having an open forum about race yet it never seems to take place?” Whoa, whoa wait a minute.. he was actually making sense and in a fashion I was ill prepared and possibly ill-equipped to answer…
I am driving home, after a weekend of football controversy about bullying and misuse of words and charges of racism, and here I am being confronted with my own possible missed opportunities to address subject matter that arises again and again. I thought he was being mean when in fact he was doing what we on one occasion or another like to say we believe we need, to have a discussion about race.
Well it’s not the time or place.. question when is it? Things can get heavy and deep when you examine them “head on”. I was so concerned about what my/our Caucasian friend would think about the brash comments my spouse made. I didn’t bother to give either of them credit of being the types of people that, one hopes, open forums create and foster. It did not occur to me that perhaps they were already in the place I say I dream will come to be one day, before I move beyond this Earth. I did not consider that maybe THEY had truly evolved. I was too busy being uncomfortable and judgmental of them both.
When is the right or proper time to have this discussion? Dare we be so exact? In a classroom sounds good, a place where ideas are meant to be exchanged. At work, certainly not unless some problem has arisen. In church, that again is a safe place because no one would be confrontational in the house of the Lord. What about at home and not your home? That is something to ponder. You see all the examples I gave were easily identified as basically safe or non-safe. However, out of these antiseptic, tagged areas one doesn’t know what might occur and that makes one reluctant to broach such a subject in that type of environment. Not in your house out of your comfort zone, anything can happen. Would YOU take that chance?
The biggest problem I see with a discussion of race, is the subject matter is uncomfortable and volatile. You want to be expressive and honest, but at what risk. Can you be truly open with people you care about, work with, attend classes and church with..? The truth is most of us walk around and ignore race until it affects us directly and depending who you are, the frequency of those direct affects varies.
When racial tension hits the headlines, there are naturally more rumblings about the problems, solutions, and yes the existence of racial issues. Case in point Richie Incognito, Jonathan Martin, the Miami Dolphins, and the NFL. There are rumblings of bullying, hazing, and most prevalent racism. I, being a football fan, have an image in my mind of a football player. I cringe when I see rules changing in the game, even knowing it is to protect the players. It is a rough and tumble game, and you have to be resilient and tough. Yet we are talking hits here, when one goes on the field he has his body armor, but what about the psychological armor. The helmet protects your head, but what do you have inside of yourself to protect your “head”? What about sportsmanship, team camaraderie, and here’s a little blast from the past word for you R-E-S-P-E-C-T! (I will cover this particular incident more detailed on a different post, for now it merely serves as an example.)
The truth is we do not know how to communicate with one another in most instances, so what would happen if we start a discussion about something that makes most of us uneasy. There would likely be arguments, harsh and hurtful words, perhaps a fight would ensue, but maybe something positive could result from this dialog. Never know unless you try, and remember it doesn’t necessarily need to be a planned event. However, you MUST make every effort to “keep-it-clean”.
This Year The Spiders Are Bad
I have never been afraid of the arachnids as-a-matter-of-fact, of all the creatures on the insect world, they are by far one of my least offensive. However, this year in Georgia they seem to be everywhere and it seems they are every present as well.
As I removed the web of one of these tiny little creatures from the corner of my bathroom door, it suddenly occurred to me that I was going about this all wrong. I mean the web was small, a minor annoyance and the only reason I payed attention to it was because I was on the floor picking something else up. Yet as insignificant as I deemed it to be, I realized I had destroyed a web in this location several times over the past few days and here it was again.This tiny stubborn creature would not give up, it kept invading my space. Though it was a small corner, there were many corners in my house and if I let this one go perhaps more would come and join before I could look up the invasion would be complete. A coup d’etat in my house! As I pondered momentarily on what I should do next, it came to me, “The web isn’t the problem it’s the spider”. I took a tissue and smashed the tiny arachnid. The next day I went into the bathroom and I specifically looked in that corner. There was no web and no spider. Simple solution if you realize what the problem is you are attacking. Now keep in mind, I don’t necessarily dislike spiders, but I am not a fan of them either. If they leave me alone and stay out of my house we have no issue.
The House of Representatives then crossed my mind. The TeaParty and the influence they have over the Republicans angers me. What happened to free thinking? Ah yes it is truly the ideology of the poor, weak, and less influential. Who else has the ability to wish for better or to dream? The rich and powerful do not dream; they do not have to, for their money and power have granted them the visible/tangible dreams. Yet through it all they are still not happy, and that is because they know all that they have will not last forever and the price they have/will have paid for the illusion’s worth of grandeur cannot be quantified.
The song “Everybody Wants To Rule The World”, rings in my ears. The horrid Koch Brothers dry sullen faces flash in my mind and one cannot disassociate the Koch brothers from the TeaParty either. I read over the article in Forbes magazine from December 2012 and had to turn from it, thinking, “I have to work on NOT being able to stomach information about things(people) I do not like”. I realized this problem I have can be tied to the problem we have facing our country in the political arena. I don’t like you; therefore I do not have time, nor will I waste my effort finding out anything about you. Yet in reality it is not that simple. The world as it has become increasingly smaller does not allow for the so-called simple solutions avoidance and ignorance have a very short “shelf life”. Where does that leave us? What do you do when you basically want to exist outside of the controversy and conflict, once you discover you cannot. Well here’s my two cents worth; do what I did about the spider problem(mine in particular) identify/realize what your source problem is and take care of the root cause.
Fear
Frozen and unable to move. Have you ever felt like this? What do you think of when you think of fear. I am not taking about shaking in your boots type, Dracula jumping at you from the big screen fear. This is the subtle one. The one you don’t know or admit to having. It is very dangerous because it will crop up at the most inopportune times.
I loved the water, loved the beach, but I never learned how to swim. Southern California girl who rode to the beach on her bike with her best friend weekly, could NOT swim a stroke.
We took swimming in high school gym class, it was mandatory. Along with the concerns a black girl has for her hair(although mine didn’t look that great back then anyway), I hated the class in general. I did not like changing in the open locker room and I did not like sports. Thus that was partially why I was not in shape. I was overweight and you had to wear these school issue suits; the thin fit girls had sleek-black-recently- purchase-almost cute- one pieced suits, while we fat girls(and at that time there were not many) had these turquoise-burlap-elastic stressed/stretched-out dinosaurs-with semi-skirted bottoms, also one-pieced. Imagining ugly, is only scratching the surface. So if you did not know you were “fat” the color coding was there. After a semester of training I did manage to pass the class with the help of this tiny little blonde named Meliss (not Melissa either). I was a freshman and had no idea who Meliss was and found myself shocked to discover she was a student aid. Good thing you are virtually weightless in water, otherwise I would have been ranked far outside of Meliss’ weight-class. I was not comfortable in the water, so years later and after I had children, I enrolled in a class at the local college I attended. It was a six week course, I got through two the first time in tried taking the class and three weeks on the second effort.
My oldest son was taking swimming lessons at age six, I did not want him to suffer my fate of being a non swimmer, he did great. One day as we waited for class to conclude his brother(less than two at the time) broke free from me, ran straight for and jumped fearlessly into the pool. He, of course, was fine he was actually dog paddling like a pro and laughing with complete joy. The fact that he was surrounded by so many staffers ready and able to “save ” him, well a non-swimmer mother could not ask for a better spot to be put “on the spot”. It was there, at that moment I realized I was afraid of the water. Years of proclaiming love for the beach , the ocean, pools, water… ; I was petrified when my child jumped into that perfectly blue, perfectly ph-balanced, perfectly supervised pool, because I WAS AFRAID OF WATER… how could I save him. That was sobering, but it allowed me to face a fact. Even though I tried to accomplish the feat of swimming, unaware of my actual state of mind, I could not because something inside of me was holding me back. I still cannot swim, but I now know it is fear that stops me.
That subtle-quiet-just-below-the-surface fear. The type that kept you from going away to college, because you didn’t want to leave the familiar surroundings of home. The type that won’t allow you on the dance floor, because you worry that people will pay such close attention to the fact you don’t have rhythm. The type that makes you hesitate when you are offered an opportunity to do something that you say you love and feel you are good at, but are terrified you will fail so you do nothing. What you do instead is give up the water, you miss your chance at the experience of being educated both formally and socially, you bypass a chance at just having some fun at the party, or you let go of a dream.
Don’t let it happen; the thing that you think you are afraid of, that which you imagine is far worse than it actually is, if you come face to face with it. Face your fear and move forward.
Alexandria Mac… Do You Know Who Your Children Really Are
I’m gonna call her Ally even though I do not have her permission. We don’t know one another, we have not been formerly introduced. From her photo she is a pretty little blonde, no stranger to make-up, sports a tiny stud highlighting a piercing, and she looks a little wild. My sister told me about Ally so I visited her page on Facebook. She did not seem to be that interesting at first; I noted right away she wasn’t much of a speller and clearly grammar was of little or no importance, yet she speaks seven(7) languages. Her employment and educational background don’t demonstrate much talent, but she is clearly an artist. She comes from a large family; two dads, a mom, seven siblings including a sister who shares her exact name. Finally she had about 50 friends( I wonder how many of them are prevaricators as well) a number of them adult male and that concerns me, although you cannot tell how old she is from the pictures.
Now lets talk about my niece Bree; she is my little sisters only child, she is a “tweenager”, and she suffers from sickle cell disease. I have written a couple of things about her, and the struggle that is a fact of life for individuals afflicted with this disease. The frequent visits to doctors and hospitals made my sister decide to be a stay-at-home mom, in order for my niece to have the extra attention she oftentimes requires. I have talked about how hard it is for a mother to watch her child helplessly go through these crisis’, the strength they all must have, and the challenges of their future. Happily I can report the sickle cell has not affected her creativity and her transition into her actual teens is going to be as “fun filled” for her parents as that transition has been or will be for each and every one of us who has raised/is raising a child.
By the way my niece knows Ally and I have to say she knows her quite well. The reason she knows Ally so well is, because they are one in the same person! Bree was in the hospital a month or so ago when her mom discovered Ally. We ask what was she thinking about, why did she do this thing? Yet, in being fair, is there really any answer that a parent would find acceptable, aside from school writing assignment about journeying into fiction writing. Do we have a “Jr. Catfish” on our hands or is she merely “catfish food“? I say this laughingly and jokingly, but I caution you against this. I think we are all aware of the predators lurking about.
Maybe Bree is yet another writer in this family that possesses a wonderful imagination and loves the written word.That of course would ultimately be my hope. Honestly I think she was just being a “tween”, demonstrating resourcefulness(TRANSLATION: tryin to be slick). However in this day, age, society nothing can be overlooked and being aware helps corral behavior. Please bother to monitor your kids and their activity online. I know this can be difficult, because oftentimes they know far more than we do when it comes to technology. However, if you ignore and pretend this cannot happen in your household, you may be in for a rude awakening. Alexandria may have a cousin or two in cyberspace who resides under your roof.
And The Guilt Rests Where?
It comes across my mind many times, on many occasions and in conjunction with certain events, how much we are products of our environments. This not necessarily a bad thing, but truth is we do have to work hard to resist the bad behavior we are often time exposed to.
Being a product of your environment sometimes affords you certain perks that you overlook and never think about, for when it is good we bask in the moment. Yet on the flip side; when denied something you want or feel deserving of and you cannot get, what does one do.
I came face to face with my bad several years ago and I live with it. I was very sad and disappointed to find yet another negative, most recently. Don’t misunderstand here pointing out these two particular instances is not to suggest this is representative of all my faults and shortcomings, this is an illustration and a cross section.
I sat in front of my laptop typing and I didn’t like what I saw. I never would have guessed this and had I not been in the midst of this wrongdoing I myself detest, I probably would have noticed. I didn’t see or pay attention to the signs. Distracted by circumstances I allowed myself to slip into survival mode and that also became my silent excuse for my behavior.
As human beings this is a part of what we do, we adjust and we adapt, it makes it possible for us to continue and thrive. However, sometimes the toll we pay for this survival is costly and I am not just speaking of monetarily. Starting this piece I touched on the benefits we received as being part of a certain environment, now we are exploring the consequence. That is why I used the word “guilt” in opposed to “responsibility” in the title.
My suggestion to solve this is, if you see after a considerable effort that things around you are not changing, you make a change and distance yourself from that undesirable situation. As an adult you cannot help where you come from, but you can chose to extract yourself once you discover you are not happy with the surroundings. If you don’t you will look up and a mirror will be reflecting your image, as that thing you were so unhappy and intolerant of.Then you will know where the guilt rests.
Eulogy
We are here today to lay to rest this love. It was a love that was thought to be infinite and ever enduring. However over the years it has suffered miserably.
As it lays silently before you it is impossible to forget how vibrant it once was. Filled with fun, excitement, and passion. You could not wait to be in this loves’ presence, and moments after you parted you missed it as though years had passed. The only thing that kept you going was anticipation of your next encounter. You recall cool moonlit nights, warm breezy afternoons, and early mornings with love that would take you through the day.
Then it began to fade; the onset of its death was painful, but as time went on it became terribly predictable. At first it hurt, then it became routine, soon you couldn’t even tell whether or not any life was left. What was most tragic is when the finality of it all took place you didn’t feel a thing, not even a flutter. Now that is gone the most significant thing about it in your mind is that it is dead. Therefore, as you lay it to rest this day the kindest thing you can do is to say “good-bye”.
Recent Comments
crawfordmj472c292f68 on Can Our Friendship Survive The… ke60 on And I’m OUT…again crawfordmj472c292f68 on And I’m OUT…again crawfordmj472c292f68 on You Don’t Have To L… Mary Jane Litmon on Silently Self-Absorbed
hafacenturyncounting 