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Color Correct

We  may think of this”color correct” when referring to hair color. I even thought back to school, when we got test papers or essays back and the errors were highlighted with red marks. However, every time something major occurs it is highlighted that we, in America, see things so clearly along the boundaries of color lines. Conscious or unconscious, with intent or without intent this is very real for us all, and most of the time we are not even aware. It is virtually autonomic .

On paper it all looks the same and means the same, but what happened when that color pertains to people. How is it that human beings eyes take in things in such a different manner. Physiologically there really is no reason for this. Yet, it happens and it happens more often than not.

Think of the most recent headlines. As reporter after reporter interviews passersby the right and wrong are unanimously clear, but the determination of where exactly those lines are drawn are separated by a simple distinction.

Personally, I took a call from a telemarketer. I was not interested in what he had to say, I only wanted him off of my phone. I could tell  by his accent that his background was not mine, I  had little patience when the conversation began, now I had less. For the final time I told the gentleman I was not interested and abruptly hung up. I immediately thought to myself after the final action, ” overbearing _____ idiot”. A bit later this piece occurred to me and I said,” Why did he have to be an overbearing _____ idiot? Why wasn’t he just an overbearing idiot?” I found myself guilty of the same thing this piece is briefly examining, but with the added benefit(or handicap) of not even being able to see my person.

From my perspective our vantage points become very skewed when we are wrong, guilty, defensive, or even just tired. We are in a weakened state, we lash out and what better way to lash out than to strike first. Our quick minds and wit often fall victims to what is obvious, thus the personal attack is where we  most often/immediately go to. Then we have the ability to make blanket statements, no matter how idiotic, about someone without knowing them, and/or without knowing the facts. Plus, we have the added feature of being able to simultaneously convince ourselves we feel good about our assessment.

Once again in our rushing, never-enough-hours-in-the-day society we have produced and raised yet another “quick fix”. This one is to aid us in assigning blame. This is not an new practice it is just more pronounced and obvious now, just the way we like it.  I offer my “two-cents” with the addendum of “practice what you preach” to myself FIRST and FOREMOST; before you render opinions/ideas/statements bother to take the time to give a bit more though than what is there for all eyes to see. It will make talks a bit more civil, a bit more sensitive, and perhaps a bit less exciting and volatile. However, not to worry for we as human beings will ALWAYS find something else to argue and be angry about.

With A Gun To My Head

What would you do? We have all heard the horrific stories of work place shootings. We have been distant witnesses to schools invaded by disturbed individuals who commit murder. Everyday we all walk into situations that could potentially put our lives at the mercy/ or in danger of loosing them. The thing is most of the time we have no way of knowing until it is too late.

Mine is a story of  disbelief. I walked right into a powder keg one day. My small business dictates that I have to venture into the unknown, with an unknown variable. PEOPLE. There is a trust factor that both parties must be in agreeance . We walk into their homes, we are exposed to and entrusted with their things, parts of their lives. I have ALWAYS preferred that we be allowed to do our work without the presence of others. That is why we are licensed, bonded, and insured. These are the things we do to make our clients feel better about us being in their houses. They give us keys and alarm codes trusting we will come in do the work, lock up, and leave. Some are at home,  not a major problem or issue, simply not a preference. However, all we need is the ability to do our work without their interference (i.e. not in our direct line of work).

Recently, life dealt a client some pretty rough blows and his response was to escape rather than deal with it. He did not have a long distance to go for his refuge, it was in a bottle. We walked into his escape with what we thought was significant armor, we were wrong. Upon our arrival we found him in a state that made us, well lets just call it uncomfortable. As impersonal as I try to be and as I want to be, humanity always manages to come out. I would have simply left had I been alone, but that was not the case.  We proceeded as though everything was alright, but everything was more like all wrong.

I saw the weapon, it reminded me of a canon. I am not a gun enthusiast, so I know little about them. What I did know was that he had a big gun , it appeared to be a real gun, and this client was half dressed(shirtless and shoeless) and he was drunk. My husband/work partner saw it and he knew much more than I did about guns. There we were basically stuck and the only thing I could think to do was proceed with caution as though all was well, but to move as fast as possible.

Like a police negotiator my husband kept this guy engaged in conversation while attempting to work. He was wanting to talk, he needed an ear. I literally RAN the vacuum over two floor levels. The dusting was hit and miss, in my mind in his state he would never know the difference. The animal hair was gone, the visible surfaces in the baths and kitchen were clean, we were out of there in about 50 minutes.  For that 50 minutes we were held hostage, whether it was implied or real, it felt the same. No sudden movement, watch what you say, watch where he was, and keep an eye on that gun. All this while you try to do what you normally do. My biggest fear was that he was going to attempt suicide and we would be witnesses to it. However, upon our departure I thought of how much danger we were in personally. It took hours to clear our heads and get beyond where we had just left. We were physically and mentally exhausted.

I never thought about the danger one puts oneself into when they enter the home of another. You are at their mercy, in their territory. I am seriously looking into a different type of business venture. I anticipate it will be sooner than I originally planned.

Concerted Effort-Less

Here we are at a place where the things we used to do without thought or effortlessly has now become a chore. What used to come naturally has to be given considerable time and planning. These things are not major undertakings, although they oftentimes feel as such. They are the little detailed, everyday items we can easily overlook.

I attend a very non-traditional church in the south. The pastor felt his calling in the area of bringing people to God who had come from little or no Christian training. ALL are welcome but the people who may be a little more skeptical or challenged will feel comfortable enough to come back and often times stay with us. I say all of this because after years of traditional training it took a “minute” to get adjusted to jeans, tee shirts, and yes shorts. However, once there, it was a welcomed change.

Similar to the adjustment one makes in going from street clothes to a uniform, I believe it either works or it doesn’t there is no in-between spot. I worked for the Postal Service for 23 years, as you can imagine, it works.

This particular Sunday as I work in the direction of fixing one more of my many flaws, I thought of how we must make efforts to do the smallest of things or they will get lost. I am working on timeliness and have made some significant strides, but I cannot deem them completely successful for this particular morning. I was able to see that I am sacrificing something important for another . Yet they are both equally needy. I am fooling, deceiving myself into thinking the strides are real successes, because they are not cumulative and I know they should be.

I have to note that I have not been taking much care in the way I look. Since we are in this relaxed environment I have become too relaxed, maybe even lazy in this area. Being a GREETER is important, another area I felt I could make a difference in. Yet, knowing that presentation and first impressions mean so very much; I shout to the members and visitors,  behind a well meaning sincere smile, This is all there is. Now I realize I do not need to be in full theatrical make-up donning a designer gown in sequins, but I should  look like I did more than wash my face and brush my teeth. When I say, “Good Morning. Welcome to 12 Stone”. Folks should want to say and feel like, “It is a good morning and I am glad to be here… just like you.”

It seems there is always another battle, the endless challenges of self awareness and self-improvement. Look close at this title; I am going to have to resolve myself to taking things one step further, so that I can insure that I not only take a step in the right direction, but that I arrive at my destination point successful and safely.

…racism….

How do I feel in my next chapter when it comes to this subject. I pause, as I did when it occurred to me to write about it. What angle would I take.  I KNOW I am sick to death of it. I know that everyday as I look into MY mirror, my subconscious visits the place where”it” rests. Armed but no necessarily ready for “it”, for you never know what attire “it” will be outfitted in.  Worried and a bit frightened of a sneak attack, because just knowing “it” exists and some places it may dwell in does not mean that is the only place you may find “it”. All of this goes on before I leave the confines of my bathroom.

I live in a predominately white suburb of Atlanta. When we moved to Georgia close to 20 years ago my cousin, the first African American captain for the commercial airline TWA, asked me why the “hell” did you all decide to move there. He flew the east coast and had visited Atlanta many times. He warned that outside the “perimeter” this rumored Mecca was but a mirror of Money, Mississippi. You all know about Money and it’s history right? He and I had many a discussion of the way the south and many cities in the north still quietly practiced traditions of pre-civil war America.

These thoughts are but a drop in the bucket, a heartbeat, a fleeting thought or a similar one that goes through the head of numerous African Americans everyday.  Then we move on and prepare for our day. The stresses of life are real for us all, but the added burden of “it” hangs above our heads and weighs heavy in our hearts.

Whites do not understand, numerous feel we are being petty, over-reacting, or  they simply do not care. It is easy to feel that way when you are not directly affected, I guess… I cannot say I know, for when something bad happens to a black person such as the events that have recently begun to unfold in Florida, our connecting comes eerily into view, our bloodlines are deeper than we consciously know or realize. We care about one another, even if at times we do not demonstrate such by our actions. Perhaps that is why insensitive whites assume we all know one another, and that it is okay to say as much. Please do not get me wrong I make the conscious effort daily, hourly to deal with PEOPLE as individuals. I work really hard NOT to be handicapped by or display the characteristics of”it” . I will not allow “it” to be how I am identified and defined.

As the years pass, “it” gets old; but remains as ugly, smelly and tasteless as the first time you encountered “it”. Problem is now you are tired and less resilient, your patience is NOT at premium level. Now you run the risk of not only being a victim of “it” but a perpetrator of “it” as well. That makes me sick to my stomach

I hate that I have to write this  piece about “it”. I hate that “it” still exists.  What is the solution? I think a real dialogue needs to occur between America and ALL her people, conversations with one another instead of AT one another. We need to recognize and respect the fact that we are ALL people and we are ALL flawed.

This is merely scratching the surface I could go on, but what I want to do is to make progress. I do not want my granddaughter in her fifth or sixth decade still talking about “it” in the present tense. I want her and the generations to come to know of “it” and take pride in “it’s” defeat and demise. To graciously realize how fortunate they are to live in a society where “it” is NOT tolerated.

Bare It All

Think about this how would you feel if you had to reveal yourself to someone? My motivation for this came from my past. This was a funny, frightening, intimidating thought. If one looks at this from a purely physical standpoint, one must examine a nude model.

Who are these individuals who allow the world to see them? Every little flaw and imperfection is visible to the artist, art student or photographer’s eye. Still they disrobe, stand there, and wait to have their being captured in one way or the other.

Beautiful bodies, in motion or still, they are something to behold. Before the age of digital cameras the once was a place called “Fotomat” now you may have had a place that used a different trade name. Their entire purpose was the same nationwide, drive-thru developing of pictures. You dropped it off, you picked it up and never had to leave your car. Well, my sister worked at one. She told me about a young couple who had taken some nude photos of one another. We were teens and we laughed like crazy. She did not show them to me and frankly I did not have the least bit of interest in seeing them. I am on the modest side of the scale. Several years later a little film directed by Forest Whittaker called “Hope Floats” main character, played by Sandra Bullock, said what I am getting at here “polaroids people”.  Why would you turn over something so personal, so revealing  to  anyone less than a true professional. Not saying “Fotomat” did not develop great picture it is about the integrity. This young couple was (forgive the pun here) the butt of two teen girls joke. Perhaps they were being artistic, perhaps they were being sensual, in either case they should have been a bit more cautious.

When you entrust something personal to, friend, acquaintance, lover, spouse, sibling, parent, etc. you do not expect to hear or see that which you put in their care out in the open for any and everyone to scrutinize. Yet, sometimes that is exactly where it ends up. People are reliable and trustworthy, but sometimes things get away. We all need a place where we can bring things out to look at and talk about. Just be sure that when you bring those things out in front of others, when you let them see and hear everything, you can feel confident it will not come out again until you are ready for it to.

Campaign Slogans and Signs

You see them everywhere. They are smart, funny, witty or straight-forward. Let me be honest, living in the “conservative” south a number of them are offensive and annoying.They line streets, grace front yards and are affixed to vehicles

I have seen a couple in person “How’s Your Hope and Change Treatin You?””NoBama”(written this way it looks a lot like the nickname of one of our states)  “If you voted for Obama to prove you weren’t a racist….” this one was on a vehicle driving passed me to make out the remainder. Finally, “Don’t Re-Nig” in 2012.  The last one demonstrates  the wishes of one candidate may be coming into fruition already, no need for folks to be forced or even given an opportunity to go to college. The nerve of that snob of a president…in case you missed it this is sheer sarcasm. A few years ago I saw a bumper sticker that was worth putting on your car, I think it should be a billboard, or on display in Times Square. It said this, “If you think that education is expensive, imagine the cost we will all pay for ignorance.

Inspired by these short little sayings I came up with a couple of my own and understand I cannot begin to express myself as eloquently as my predecessors, but here are my contributions;

” Santorium.. A man for the ages, the dark ages”.

“Who Gives a Newt”

“Mitt.. now he is for change, change positions change sides, change of clothes”

“Ron Paul who really cares?”

I play a game as I drive through town. I call it” What does a ____ supporter look like? Kind of a “Are You Smarter Than A 5th Grader” driving game. It is something to keep me occupied as I sit in traffic and this game has made me even more aware that numerous inhabitants of my area are NOT!

So I’m a “damn-yankee”. Overall, I hate politics. In previous post I have pointed out I have limited understanding of the process. The one thing I do know of  and do exercise, is my right to vote. Since becoming eligible I have not missed an opportunity to put  the person of  my choosing into office so “he/she” can sell me up river to the highest bidder. I have little or no faith in politicians, any politicians. Recent history is partially to blame. Yet, I do believe I do have basic understanding of reality and what my future could hold if I decide not to cast my ballot.

The bulk of us do not have the time nor the interest to actually research/ investigate the person who is begging, pleading, conning their way into the polling location with us. We take these people at face value and rely on the media, friends, and family to give us an idea who has our best interest at heart. After using this scientific method to select our candidate, we  announce it to our neighbors, strangers, and basically people who give less than a damn about what we think and who we  are/are going to vote for.

Why, because we are proud of what we have done or are going to do. We do this, because we think our opinion is better than others, and if they see what we have done they will follow suit. We do this in order to perhaps discover a common ground, to know we are a part of something big. Announcing our feelings demonstrating to others the confidence in our decision makes us believe we truly know what we are doing.

The most important thing that each of us do is to participate in the process. Liberal, moderate conservative, democrat, republican, independent. People fought and died for us to ALL to have a right to participate in this process; and hopefully have a voice. We are doing our very least by taking advantage of what so many sacrificed so much for.

I will close with this thought; If you think your participation doesn’t count it won’t and neither will you.

Looking Back- For What

Another milestone of sorts rapidly approaches, and I find myself filled with another series of questions. It will be 35 years since my contemporaries and I graduated from high school, June of this year. There has been discussion of a reunion. There are various ones going on; ones that combine classes, one that even combine schools. The ultimate goal here is merely a get-together, an excuse… no an opportunity to have a little fun.

There are things in life you never forget, high school depending on your experience is one of those things. As I read in the news or listen to talk shows where younger people are going to school taking out their frustrations or fighting back against bullies, it saddens me so. For at a time when one has a relative carefree existence these kids have adults sized issues plaguing them.

The era of the Social Media Sites… I am very glad they exist, they have allowed me to connect and reconnect with some family, long lost friends, and acquaintances. They have produced a  relatively”safe” environment for these connections and for that alone I believe we all can benefit. As with most things, we all must exercise precautions.

Let me take you back a few decades though, to not the first but perhaps one of the most celebrated “only if/what would happen if” films of OUR time “Back To The Future”. Who among us hasn’t wished for some time escaping vehicle to send us to a chosen spot, where we would have the option of a child’s game, “a do-over”. Not dealing with the negative affects only the boundless possibilities. Our hero Marty McFly allowed us to live out the experience vicariously for a couple of hours. Following the film maybe our mind’s eye briefly let us create the alternate place of our own, in which we were the starring characters.

“The Reunion “gives us a “taste ” of that fantasy, as well as a slap in the face of the realities. Whether it is family, workplace, class, or something more personal (“an affair to remember”; my movie trivia folks will appreciate this) a basic human need or two will be approached and/or fulfilled.

However, on these brief jaunts into the past we have to take some safety precautions. Accept and realize the guide, guests, and attractions may be a little altered by “father-time” in the  form of our very own memory. He, as well as it, may not be as forgiving as we may have hoped. With that out of the way; buckle up, venture into a place where people knew and remember you from a time gone by. Immerse yourself in the fact that these same people interacted with you longer and more frequently than some of your very own family, many in ways your family was not privy to.

We are warned of looking back, how this can lead to regret. Then in the same breath, we feel justified in looking back in order to not make the same mistakes. I submit to you a view of a forward thinker, you certainly could repeat the same mistake(s), but the way you deal with it/them will be different

When it is over look at the experience through the eyes of a roller coaster enthusiast; it may be short, it certainly was sweet, and I ABSOLUTELY  would do it all over again! Personally, I am lookin forward to that next reunion.

Your Peninsula

I will always think of it as home. My ideal spot. The place I wanted to be. When we moved there, it just felt right.  Palos Verdes had an air about it. I can clearly see the beautiful Pacific as you came to the hilltop on Hawthorne Blvd to this very day. Whether the waves were crashing against the rocks beneath  Portuguese Bend or the full moon shone over  still waters of Malaga Cove, it  was/is breath-taking and for several years before we migrated south it was my home. As my roots are in Inglewood, California and I reside in Duluth, Georgia; This place holds my heart.

It has always quietly called to me. I would hear the wind whispers as a teen,  on a clear day it’s outline stood there south west of my then comfort zone. I knew I would be there one day,  and that it would be a part of my life. The world is filled with beautiful spectacular places, but like a garment tailored especially for you, I believe we also have a spot on this Earth that we are directly connected to.

If I were a painter I would spend my days in Lunada Bay doing one seascape after another, never tiring of my view. I could do my interpretation of the Point Vicente Lighthouse from memory.

I have yet to see the islands of Hawaii and I do hope to go  and visit there in the very near future. I have always thought of it simply as paradise, a place like no other. Then as I wrote this brief little piece it came to me; I lived in paradise and it felt so very good.

Maybe it is in the wooded hills or bustling city. Perhaps the desert calls you to . Wherever it is you feel the tugging, you have to go there, you have to be there. When you are not there in this place that you are drawn to, you are lost and don’t know how or why. You search for it aimlessly and when you do arrive you know it. The connection, the oneness, your”peninsula”.

Heart-Felt

Sometimes when I write it is deliberate, sometimes it is inspired. This piece is both. This is  the result of five decades of February 14th memories and opinions.

In 2012 it falls on a Tuesday. I will be working. I will not expect anything spectacular and even if something spectacular happened no one would know, but two others in my immediate family. So what is all the hype?

Mine have been an cyclic battle of “here we are again or it doesn’t phase me” in my adult life. Have you guessed my Valentine’s Days have been less than desired by my standard. To begin with I am a hopeless romantic,  now you know the task of making me happy was daunting. Roses, chocolates, diamonds, sweet breakfasts in bed, romantic dinners… those would have been good starts. Now using reasonable deducing one might think this person is STILL a candidate to be a fan of the day. Maybe the celebrations have “just missed” and the “mushy-hearted”  fool is waiting to emerge. However, that is not the case. Then you explore the disappointed cynic and perhaps that is a part of my feelings too.

How did I get to this place? Well the greeting card industry had a great deal to do with it, but I am not going to bash them. There have been times that I believed I would be better served in that very industry, the flip side of that is I have made myself indifferent due to an industry filled with something I have an on-going love affair with, WORDS.

In elementary school you may recall little heart shaped cards and  hard pastel colored candy that were associated with the day. Nothing noteworthy happened here, that is until the tuggings of adolescence began to surface. At first mostly girls gave valentines and some boys, with their mother’s insistence participated. Then you could see the popularity contests start. It went from everyone in the class to actually recognizing fond feelings, friendship or budding “puppy-love”. You were either giggling about the reality of it, fantasizing about it, or feeling isolated for a lack of it. I spent a great deal of time in the fantasy realm where it was safe. Allowing me to protect my heart, but it happened. He came  mid-school year, I was in sixth grade, and he was the prettiest boy I had ever seen. He didn’t know I existed and as time went on I would hope that I had remained in that place, but I never forgot him.  He wasn’t particularly mean to me, he was being an eleven year old boy who was as guided by his hormones as he was by peer pressure.

The teen and early adult years would be a series of  near misses with  significant others or simply lack there of. The lukewarm would-be cynic began to develop and grow. Somewhere in between there were some really special ones for me, ones that will remain in my heart and mind forever.

Therefore, I felt compelled to research Saint Valentine, whom of we have to thank for the name of our sentimental fool’s holiday. He was beheaded.  I am laughing as I bluntly put that out here, for while this was not intended to be a super serious piece it was not the intention to poke fun at either. Irony at it’s roots.

Finally and all put aside; I truly hope your Valentine’s Day is filled with chocolate hearts, beautifully worded poems and the sweet embraces of the one who holds the key to your heart. That is a sincere heart-felt wish.

Ahhhh..Mondays

Whether you listened to them or not we grew up with groups that bemoaned this day of the week. “The Carpenters”-Rainy Day and Mondays, “The Mamas and the Papas”-Monday, Monday  come to my mind first and foremost; no one I can think of right off hand has written a song saying  YEAH Monday, can’t hardly wait! Today I am feeling all the dread associated with this day of the week.

It began about 7:15a.m. I saw the light filtering  in from my bedroom and bathroom windows, and my thought was,” Oh No…..” Once again the weekend had flown by and all I was left with was another MONDAY. From my “Facebook” posts  I wasn’t alone.

I don’t know why this Monday January 30,2012 was so very bad. I certainly have seen worse ones. By that I mean I was faced with things that would actually contribute to a bad day, while this Monday was simply bad  because.. Maybe it was because I didn’t get enough sleep, maybe it was because it was the last Monday in the month, maybe it was bad because I was looking for a reason to feel bad and Monday just happened to be available.

Happily I can report it did get better. Once I started the day, once I realized Monday was not going to disappear because I wasn’t ready for it to be, my universe returned to “normal”. I had to come to grips with as bad as I may have thought my Monday was and facing the day ahead, it sure beat the heck outta the option of not being able to face that same Monday.

The day far behind me and nothing significant to report. Either consciously or unconsciously I did not let a particularly bad start direct the remainder of my day.  I submit this to you; if your day starts off bad, make a decision and take a stand. Do not become one of those folks who lets things happen, and  the only thing they have available to contribute is a complaint.