hafacenturyncounting

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Archive for the tag “perspectives”

20 Aug 2014
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License To Kill

Remember that movie? Well I don’t; I was never a James Bond fan, I vaguely remember the song, and I had to research it to find out who was singing the song. It was Gladys Knight. I also found out that Bob Dylan wrote a song with the same title different lyrics. Neither is pertinent to this piece, except they share the same title.

Who are these people charged with the task “To Protect and Serve”? In a  time of controversy or civil unrest we may even ask ,” Who do they protect and serve?” Think about this one; what do you think about police in general and specifically related to YOU?

Many years ago I thought about becoming a Los Angeles County Sheriff. I did a little research, registered to take the exam, but when the time came I decided that I was not really interested in being a part of law enforcement, all I wanted was the money that was promised in salary. I knew at that point in my young life, money alone should not be the reason one gets into law enforcement.

I had a friend who went a bit farther than I did, she was a beautiful young woman with gorgeous hair. What impacted me, what made me know that she was serious was, when she cut her hair off to wear a short cropped afro because she wanted to be a part of that community. She did the ride-alongs first, she took the exam, and even passed the interview. On her was to the psychological testing, the next thing I heard was she decided against moving on. Now we can guess at or assume what may have changed her mind, but this was just a  personal tid-bit as to why I am here writing this piece now. My turning point was the idea that one day I might have to pull a person from a car who had been fatally injured, or having to aim my weapon at a suspect with the intent to “stop” them and by mistake or intentionally end their life, or knocking on the door of some unfortunate survivor to tell them a loved one would not be returning home to them.

Police/law enforcement officers are a special breed, in my opinion I was NOT that “kind” of special. Strong, stoic, yet compassionate. Honorable and trustworthy, calm and well trained. I am so very happy we have them, but when you find them abusing the power they are given, it frightens, angers, and appalls you. Why shouldn’t it. They are entrusted with our lives.  When they take that power and use it incorrectly, use it against the very ones who are looking to them for help; what do you say about individuals like that? The officer who demeans a man in the presence of his child, the individual who places an individuals life in danger by using a hold that has been forbidden and illegal for decades, the individual who hides/misplaces evidence, the wife beater, the alcohol abuser and yes this same individual still has a badge. Common sense, sensitivity, and reasoning are no longer the tools of their trade. Yet the public is told these are community leaders and turn to them for help.  These are the individuals who look at their positions and think in a manner that demonstrates they think they do in fact have a license to kill and it is open season on citizens. How safe do you feel?

Posted in As Consumers and tagged , ,
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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24 May 2014
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Ooops I’ve Said Too Much

And then you get the look. You know it is too late the taste of Doctor Scholl’s foot powder almost chokes you, but it is too late you know you should have stopped talking at least one sentence ago.

The stupid things, the word regurgitation; if only somehow you could take those things back, a rewind if you will. There is nothing magical or mysterious about saying a mean and hurtful thing; your moment of  “telling it like it is” may be subject to all kind of review from all kinds of sources, even though the intention was other than that. You put it out there and now you must deal with  ramifications.

The truth is the truth hurts, at times and is down right difficult at others. Some days you throw in the towel and say you’re going to throw caution to the wind, but then what happens when the wind changes directions and it come back in your face.  Are you really ready for that?

When one writes there is material all around for you to pick and choose from, in the non-fiction forum we battle with being too sickeningly sweet to being to morbidly real. Even falling somewhere in between can be dangerous, because you can get stuck there. This is the where the point is driven home. Moderation once again is the solution. We need balance in our lives, our very make-up dictates this. The next time you feel compelled to say something that occurs to you might be  taken in a way that you don’t necessarily mean for it to be taken.  Hold off, your haste may later require  your foot being surgically removed from your mouth.

Posted in How We Relate and tagged , ,
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.

Posted in Order of Appearance and tagged ,
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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05 Apr 2014

Worn Out Welcomes

This should be short and sweet.  Only a couple points to make; first don’t do it, second if you do leave quietly. End story right? However, when you factor in _____________ the list becomes virtually endless. Saturday Night Live did a spoof of 1950’s horror movies and theirs was  a trailer called, “The Thing That Wouldn’t Go Home”.  Complete with cheesy music, obvious lines blatantly suggesting departure should take place NOW, and timed screams, “The Thing”  just did not get it.

When you  talk about a guest in your home well it can be touchy. Yet once they are gone you can do things to avoid a  recurrence. Making sure you aren’t available for the next visit, risk friendship by telling them the truth about the previous visit, etc. What do you do when it is a resident in your neighborhood? What if “The Thing” is your next door neighbor who owns his home and your horror movie isn’t about him going home, it is about him and/or his behavior going away, period?

“The Thing” has, in essence, worn out his welcome in the neighborhood. He has not taken the subtle and/or blatant hints. His defiance has upset the cozy environment, now something must be done about him.

They say “You Can’t Fight City Hall”, but you can. The problem is you have to keep at it long enough for two things to happen; 1.city hall realizes you have a problem, 2. you will not go away until they do something about it. Depending on  the size of the city will determine how much noise you must make and how long you have to keep at it.

Sometimes in the midst of situations you may wake to find that you have now become “The Thing That Wouldn’t….“ No one ever said that being right or correct keeps you safe from being labeled that which is unwanted.  The truth is having to make someone perform at a higher level is not always welcome. How many calls or complaints from one individual constitutes an annoyance? You think, “I am only  asking that they do their job”, while the party on the receiving end is thinking, “Will you let me do my job”.

When it is finally over and all is said and done, you may come to realize that all that you have accomplished has not had the affect you hoped for.  Individuals who push to a point where all one wants from them is for them to be gone are clueless;  while you can push them out the door or kick them in the behind, that does not mean you will cure that invasive part of them and keep them from doing the very same thing again. You must come to grips with the fact they were never really welcome, just merely tolerated, and now they have reached zero-tolerance.

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10 Mar 2014
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My Life Through Malls

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. The malls had everything from cute clothes, fun food, and attractive members of the opposite sex. Truly one stop shopping. As certain music can be attached to you , producing YOUR personal soundtrack , my mall experience served as a navigational tool.  I was able to connect my shopping habits to where I was in my  life at any given time. I thought , ” Wow this is crazy”! Yet it started me thinking about how true this was. I now see myself going out of my way to avoid trips to the mall. I buy online to avoid the crowds or go to local shopping areas, places that you have to walk from store to store by exiting the building and going outside. As everything in life, this trend of malls has made a full circle. Once the appeal of year-round-regardless-of-weather-conditions environment brought people out in droves. They had everything. There was a point that you could do it all at the mall. The Mall of America even had an amusement park inside. multiplex movie theaters were signs of a money making mall, the mall near my home “Peninsula Center” even had an ice skating rink. A little out of the ordinary for Southern Cal. It was a point that you not only dreaded going into malls because of crowds, but the area nearby because of traffic. Now the small local specialty shops are on the rise, “anchor stores” like Macy’s are losing ground to vintage clothing and second hand stores. The economy made us uncomfortable and unhappy, but it also made us think and become thrifty. We came up with new ideas to keep ourselves fashionable without spending a fortune. Of course the mall experience has not died, in many cases it is not even sick. I know my disdain began when I watched a report in the mid 1990’s and the “mall psychologist” was  noted as a necessary part of mall planning. My first though was what-the-__ is a” mall psychologist”. As the report went on it explained things like appealing to people and promoting impulse buying, the use of tactic like end cap displays, but what ticked me off was when one of these professionals talked about how some malls had the up escalator on one end of the mall and the down escalator on the other end. If you wanted to just come into one particular store aside from those “anchor stores”, you would have to either climb stairs, wait on an elevator (also in an “anchor store” for the most part}, or walk a good distance past many stores clamoring for your attention and your money.

I thought of malls I knew of that were designed just like that, malls I frequented and  how hard it was to just walk, not browse when you were in the mall walking past stores. Then the “mall psychologist” did not seem quite so ridiculous, I realized how predictable I was, how these individuals had sized me up. I hated that they were right. I set out to be a part of the resistance. Yeah well, finances were the biggest factor in my resistance. However, as time went by I did realize how little I needed the mall experience.

On this particular day as I sat recalling a time gone by, having a DeJeVu moment with my granddaughter I was once again able to appreciate the experience of indoor shopping. However, I did take note this mall is all on one level.

Posted in As Consumers and tagged ,
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.

Posted in Order of Appearance and tagged , , ,
15 Feb 2014

Assigning Blame and Finding Justice

So you have been wronged, what now? What will make you feel better? I would say nothing short of getting exactly what YOU think would be fair. However in the real world, the world that advertises the impartiality of justice, but practices a subjective interpretation of that same justice, the likelihood of you being completely satisfied is slim .

Here we are once again with a high-racially charged profile trial; The Florida Case of Michael Dunn accused of killing 17 year old Jordan Davis. Manipulated by the press and media in all forms, we are being taken on a guided tour of our fears, insecurities, and anger. Each of us asks, “What on Earth are these jurors missing, Why can’t they see what any half -wit can see?”I blame/give credit to the media for playing “us” like the ratings experts they are.

Lets go for fear to start with; in a trial where race IS factored in, as in this case, the group who the victim belongs to feels like,” If justice is not served we will see an upsurge of this behavior for there is no consequence. While the counterpart thinks,” This is the way it is and one must accept it”.

Our insecurities come into play asking,” What do we do, how do we react now that this has happened and if the system fails us, AGAIN” Counterparts,” This one has to get through, but how many more will? How do we keep THIS system in check?”

Finally, anger rears it’s head and is ready for a fight. Armed with that anger nothing is impossible, it is fueled for war. Yet you must realize it oftentimes charged with the energy of emotion there is little room for logic and common sense. “We are NOT going to stand for this treatment”, says one side while the other side say, ” We are prepared to fight”.

In another life perhaps I would have liked to have been an attorney, for I love the law and am fascinated by it. I respect the law and realize I DO NOT UNDERSTAND ALL ASPECTS OF IT. However, I do possess the ability to read, understand and think. I have to trust the system and give the benefit of the doubt to the jury, that they have these same characteristics available to them as well.

Admittedly, I do exist in the “racial divide”. I don’t want to, but I am neither naive or stupid. I am however, HOPEFUL. I do not walk around with a perpetual “chip-on-my-shoulder”, but I do not exist with blinders over my eyes either. I can say I have happily found a place that keeps me residing in that HOPEFUL state, but every-so-often I get a visit from unfair, sometimes injustice invades my space.”They” are not always going to go away quietly, but then again neither am I.

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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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