Faux Ami. A person who you learn is not your friend afterall. It happens. I would rather have someone say directly and honestly, "Don't call me; I'll call you...NEVER!" than play all sorts of excuse games. Direct honesty might smart and sting, but the sensation of rejection passes and we can all move along happily. I usually brag, if you will, that I have a sense of humor, so I can have a little fun with the phone challenged and the Faux Ami finally making a break from me.
Let me explain:
For years, Faux Ami and I were Vrai Amis, or so I thought. She helped my daughter move twice, baby sat the trio once, helped with my daughter's second wedding and sat in a court room with her at the end of that road one day. I helped with her wedding, helped with her daughter's wedding, painted murals, sewed poet shirts for groomsmen, hand beaded parts of the wedding dress, spent nearly a month picking up, playing with, etc her granddaughter. We didn't keep score, really. Vrai Amis don't do that. A recommendation was needed for a job. I wrote it. Explanation of employment or lack there of for her daughter's benefit. I wrote it and delivered it immediately. In order to write, deliver, help, make plans, phone calls were made. The spoken word made necessities, requests, emergencies clear. One does not know why a person is phoning, until he/she answers the phone.
Time passed:
For months, I would call and get Faux Ami's voice mail. I recorded so often, that I just might go platinum by the end of the year. I would text. After a day or two after my messages were left, I would receive lame texts, fewer, but lamer calls: "My phone was dead; I couldn't find my phone; my phone was in the bottom of my purse, at the bottom of the stairs; I was asleep; I was in the shower; I was outside, the phone inside; I was in the car with my sister; I was talking on my phone; my phone is wonkie..." This went on for months and months, as I have said.
One day, I knew that I really needed just one hour of her time. Just one hour and it was excruciatingly important. About two days before I tried to phone...voicemail (I expected that); the next day, I tried to phone...voicemail (surprise?). The day after I really, really needed just one hour, I received a text with yet another lame excuse. I waved my white surrender flag... I apologized for bothering her and admitted defeat.
Days later, a friend told me that he ran into Faux Ami who said that she thought that I'm annoyed. How old are we? Deal directly, yes? She went on to say that she doesn't answer the phone when I call because she is "not a phone person". I respect that. No chit-chat, no stories, no entertainment. Valid.
But...
What about an emergency? What about an invitation? A question? If Faux Ami does not answer, how does she know the reason of the call? Of course, we know that it is MY number/call that will not be answered, so emergencies, invitations, questions are not issues.
However, for those of you who are not on her "no phone" list, I advise: Faux Ami is not a "phone person", so in case of emergency: SEND SMOKE SIGNALS!!!
Laura Macy Author & Actress
Thursday, May 15, 2014
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
FINE FEATHERED FREELOADING FRIENDS (or One Tough Crowd)
One afternoon, I was embroidering and sipping some Vanilla Chai Tea. My reverie was shattered by my phone's Pirate Jig ringtone. All three grandchildren - Todd, 10; tess, 9; Tanner, 6 happened to be on three separate extentions, screeching, giggling all at once. The gist of the episode was a chorus of "Hey Meme!" (That's may-may) "Quick! Turn on the television! We need the "I Spy Birdhouse"! And, if you order right now, we can get a free bird feeder with it and a laser level!" I tried asking what channel...another sales pitch in three part harmony. I tried asking if they could jot down a phone number since this treasure was available only "as seen on TV" The response was from Tanner: "What's a level?" I asked if there was a web site. Tess told Tanner that if he didn't know what a level was, he couldn't use it when it came. I asked if there was an address. Todd told Tess to stop and get to the business of buying the contraption. In other words, I had three enthusiastic consumers leaving me to figure it all out and of course, pay for it. After a little of the frenzy died down, I said that I would check it out and have my fingers do the surfing on my keyboard. Tess reminded me that the "I Spy Birdhouse" had to be shipped to my house. Mommy would have a conniption if they tried hanging it on any window at their house. Of course.
I found the "I Spy Birdhouse", ordered the complete ensemble of house, feeder and level. One day, during a visit, while the Trio and I were finishing lunch, there was a knock at the door. A package was delivered! There is little more thrilling for children than to receive a package. The Trio tore into the box as if Christmas was suddenly declared. We gathered around a table and as Tess read directions, Todd and Tanner engineered the new construction. After Tess finished reading the directions and we had an assortment of extra pieces. I re-read the directions as Tess dissembled the boys' work and Todd tried to put it together again. The key to this is that the house has suction cups to hold it on the outside of a window and a one-way mirror film hangs inside of the window. Birds are supposed to think that it is a private nook with a dark, solid back, which is actually the wall through which we can "spy" and see nest building, etc. We took a step ladder out of the garage, tried it on for size and it was declared that Meme was the only one tall enough to stand on the ladder and reach one of the window panes targeted for the new house. Yes, in the front dining room window. With Tess holding the house and the boys steadying the ladder (ah-ha, yeah, that's the ticket - steadying) I climbed up, took the house from Tess and attached our new "I Spy Birdhouse" to the house window. We returned inside to assemble the bird feeder. Problems? Yep! Nothing is simple. The suction cup couldn't negotiate the sphere shape of the feeder to attach to the window. So, I rigged wire going through it and attached it onto a rather tall rhododendron that brushes the targeted window. Upon our return inside, Tanner picked up the level and asked what to do with it! I told the children that we were supposed to use it to be sure that we hung the house straight. Todd just looked at me and said, "Hey, Meme! We're professionals. We eye-balled it!" We filled the feeder with crushed saltines, having no bird seed. Second to receiving a package, there is a rush when children can take turns smashing anything - crackers- no exception. Inside, we attached the one way mirror film. Priscilla, my cat, drew up a lease with option to buy and we scheduled an open house to encourage traffic and screen potential residents.
For days now, birds have been chowing down on my crackers like little porkers! I cannot keep the feeder full. Those feathered mooches are bellying up to the feeder, loading up and not even leaving a tip!
Late in the afternoon, early evening-ish today, I was sipping a glass of wine on the back deck. A sparrow perched itself on a wire near me, looking at me, he began to squawk! It hopped around and complained like an irate diner who in an upscale restaurant, found a mouse doing the backstroke in his soup! A cardinal joined him and began almost honking alerting his friends. After a while, I had two wires full of hostile, complaining birds, apparently misreading Priscilla's menu board as a "Customer Service" sign! I think, but I can't be sure, that those freeloaders are becoming bored with saltines and want a change in menu! Now, they are lousy tippers and have never put any cash in the donation jar! What nervve. Priscilla joined me on the deck and shared my amazement! She is not as patient as I. So, she went directly inside and raised the prices on the menu board and is now rewriting the lease to include a bigger meal plan and cleaning charges. Commercial "add-ons".
Well, Mother Nature, I do not know if running a nesting Bed and Breakfast house is truly my vocation. I am inclined to think that I am not cut out to feed the greedy hungry. At best, Priscilla and I are going to video this fiasco and possibly run it on You-Tube: FINE FEATHERED FREELOADING FRIENDS, or One Tough Crowd!
I found the "I Spy Birdhouse", ordered the complete ensemble of house, feeder and level. One day, during a visit, while the Trio and I were finishing lunch, there was a knock at the door. A package was delivered! There is little more thrilling for children than to receive a package. The Trio tore into the box as if Christmas was suddenly declared. We gathered around a table and as Tess read directions, Todd and Tanner engineered the new construction. After Tess finished reading the directions and we had an assortment of extra pieces. I re-read the directions as Tess dissembled the boys' work and Todd tried to put it together again. The key to this is that the house has suction cups to hold it on the outside of a window and a one-way mirror film hangs inside of the window. Birds are supposed to think that it is a private nook with a dark, solid back, which is actually the wall through which we can "spy" and see nest building, etc. We took a step ladder out of the garage, tried it on for size and it was declared that Meme was the only one tall enough to stand on the ladder and reach one of the window panes targeted for the new house. Yes, in the front dining room window. With Tess holding the house and the boys steadying the ladder (ah-ha, yeah, that's the ticket - steadying) I climbed up, took the house from Tess and attached our new "I Spy Birdhouse" to the house window. We returned inside to assemble the bird feeder. Problems? Yep! Nothing is simple. The suction cup couldn't negotiate the sphere shape of the feeder to attach to the window. So, I rigged wire going through it and attached it onto a rather tall rhododendron that brushes the targeted window. Upon our return inside, Tanner picked up the level and asked what to do with it! I told the children that we were supposed to use it to be sure that we hung the house straight. Todd just looked at me and said, "Hey, Meme! We're professionals. We eye-balled it!" We filled the feeder with crushed saltines, having no bird seed. Second to receiving a package, there is a rush when children can take turns smashing anything - crackers- no exception. Inside, we attached the one way mirror film. Priscilla, my cat, drew up a lease with option to buy and we scheduled an open house to encourage traffic and screen potential residents.
For days now, birds have been chowing down on my crackers like little porkers! I cannot keep the feeder full. Those feathered mooches are bellying up to the feeder, loading up and not even leaving a tip!
Late in the afternoon, early evening-ish today, I was sipping a glass of wine on the back deck. A sparrow perched itself on a wire near me, looking at me, he began to squawk! It hopped around and complained like an irate diner who in an upscale restaurant, found a mouse doing the backstroke in his soup! A cardinal joined him and began almost honking alerting his friends. After a while, I had two wires full of hostile, complaining birds, apparently misreading Priscilla's menu board as a "Customer Service" sign! I think, but I can't be sure, that those freeloaders are becoming bored with saltines and want a change in menu! Now, they are lousy tippers and have never put any cash in the donation jar! What nervve. Priscilla joined me on the deck and shared my amazement! She is not as patient as I. So, she went directly inside and raised the prices on the menu board and is now rewriting the lease to include a bigger meal plan and cleaning charges. Commercial "add-ons".
Well, Mother Nature, I do not know if running a nesting Bed and Breakfast house is truly my vocation. I am inclined to think that I am not cut out to feed the greedy hungry. At best, Priscilla and I are going to video this fiasco and possibly run it on You-Tube: FINE FEATHERED FREELOADING FRIENDS, or One Tough Crowd!
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
MC DONALD'S - I'M LOVIN' IT!
I have mentioned to whoever falls victim to my rants, how I am not a fan (big or little) of Naples, Florida , nor Zanesville, Ohio. The only difference between the two (other than geography) is that Naples is affluent and Zanesville - not so much. The citizens/residents of both checked manners, intelligence at the borders before entering.
BUT...
Both have a McDonald's with Wi-Fi! In situations when I have been condemned to either municipality, I have wandered into McDonald's with my computer, newspaper, loneliness and an extreme thirst for coffee! After I corralled the Trio (grandchildren), which is like herding cats, early in the morning, I would stop in at a Naples' McDonald's. A very nice man explained the "drill" to access the Internet, other patrons chatted with the children and frankly, for hours, one could actually enjoy oneself! The partons were older, well-dressed, well-spoken and "regulars" that met in the mornings before their days began! Friendly, welcoming, patient, fun! The staff of the establishment seemed to be waiting for us and glad that we finally arrived! After a few mornings, the people remembered our names, saved a table large enough for the Trio and myself and all of my assorted papers! When a gentleman, any gentleman, would get up for a refill, he would ask if I was ready for a warm up! I expressed my shock, gratitude and said that should I wander back into Naples, I would most certainly join the crowd again!
AND THEN...
I spent a week in Zanesville, Ohio with the children while my daughter was out of town. For some reason, the Internet was "down". What to do? After dropping the children off at school, I headed for the nearest McDonald's, on Maple Avenue, might I add. I found a great table, with a perfect view of the television, already tuned in to NBC (I am a "Today Show" junkie). I spread out - newspaper, computer, papers, breakfast and hunkered down. After a short time, one of the employees approached and offered to refill my coffee cup. Patrons coming and going all smiled, said "Good Morning". Like Naples, the guests were older. Designer clothing was lacking, but warmth, friendliness were the norm. On the second morning, as I entered, one man said: "Here you go, honey - the table must be reserved for you!" Chit chat about everything and nothing included een me! My visit became a party. By the third morning, the staff greeted me, the partons( sounded like the customers in "Cheers" when they would yell out "Norm!") exclaimed: "Laur!" Who would get more coffee, who would read everyone's horoscopes, and "Hey, girl, what 'er ya workin' on now?" was directed at me!
SO...
On my last morning for this visit in Zanesville, I met my 25 new friends, settled in and flipped on "Happy" on You-Tube. The crowd, including staff, gravitated towards me. Some were familiar with "that hip hop stuff" because of grandchildren. By the time I played the song for the second time, the partons of McDonald's were dancing, singing, snapping their fingers! We were all "happy"! I phoned and placed my phone on speaker for one more encore so that my parents, in their local McDonald's on the Hamburg Turnpike in Wayne, NJ, could hear what is in store for them when I join them during my next visit.
MY THOUGHT...
The McDonald Corporation should stand and proudly bow! The dispositions of the employees encourage a "regular" crowd of very, very, very nice people. The Senior Citizen Breakfast Club (my words, not theirs) is made to feel welcome, not rushed (how about that for a fast food joint?). McDonald's guidelines and policies, I think, have established a universal protocol of patience, kindness and understanding. McDonald's is a haven for those seeking companionship, peer idea exchange and a sense of "belonging". I appreciate Happy Meals and Play Areas when I have the children with me. McDonald's accommodates all ages, true. However, whether it be Zanesville, Centerville, Ohio; Naples, Orlando, Florida; Wayne, New Jersey; Times Square, NYC or anyplace on the planet, McDonald's corporation, thank you! I'M LOVIN' IT!!!
BUT...
Both have a McDonald's with Wi-Fi! In situations when I have been condemned to either municipality, I have wandered into McDonald's with my computer, newspaper, loneliness and an extreme thirst for coffee! After I corralled the Trio (grandchildren), which is like herding cats, early in the morning, I would stop in at a Naples' McDonald's. A very nice man explained the "drill" to access the Internet, other patrons chatted with the children and frankly, for hours, one could actually enjoy oneself! The partons were older, well-dressed, well-spoken and "regulars" that met in the mornings before their days began! Friendly, welcoming, patient, fun! The staff of the establishment seemed to be waiting for us and glad that we finally arrived! After a few mornings, the people remembered our names, saved a table large enough for the Trio and myself and all of my assorted papers! When a gentleman, any gentleman, would get up for a refill, he would ask if I was ready for a warm up! I expressed my shock, gratitude and said that should I wander back into Naples, I would most certainly join the crowd again!
AND THEN...
I spent a week in Zanesville, Ohio with the children while my daughter was out of town. For some reason, the Internet was "down". What to do? After dropping the children off at school, I headed for the nearest McDonald's, on Maple Avenue, might I add. I found a great table, with a perfect view of the television, already tuned in to NBC (I am a "Today Show" junkie). I spread out - newspaper, computer, papers, breakfast and hunkered down. After a short time, one of the employees approached and offered to refill my coffee cup. Patrons coming and going all smiled, said "Good Morning". Like Naples, the guests were older. Designer clothing was lacking, but warmth, friendliness were the norm. On the second morning, as I entered, one man said: "Here you go, honey - the table must be reserved for you!" Chit chat about everything and nothing included een me! My visit became a party. By the third morning, the staff greeted me, the partons( sounded like the customers in "Cheers" when they would yell out "Norm!") exclaimed: "Laur!" Who would get more coffee, who would read everyone's horoscopes, and "Hey, girl, what 'er ya workin' on now?" was directed at me!
SO...
On my last morning for this visit in Zanesville, I met my 25 new friends, settled in and flipped on "Happy" on You-Tube. The crowd, including staff, gravitated towards me. Some were familiar with "that hip hop stuff" because of grandchildren. By the time I played the song for the second time, the partons of McDonald's were dancing, singing, snapping their fingers! We were all "happy"! I phoned and placed my phone on speaker for one more encore so that my parents, in their local McDonald's on the Hamburg Turnpike in Wayne, NJ, could hear what is in store for them when I join them during my next visit.
MY THOUGHT...
The McDonald Corporation should stand and proudly bow! The dispositions of the employees encourage a "regular" crowd of very, very, very nice people. The Senior Citizen Breakfast Club (my words, not theirs) is made to feel welcome, not rushed (how about that for a fast food joint?). McDonald's guidelines and policies, I think, have established a universal protocol of patience, kindness and understanding. McDonald's is a haven for those seeking companionship, peer idea exchange and a sense of "belonging". I appreciate Happy Meals and Play Areas when I have the children with me. McDonald's accommodates all ages, true. However, whether it be Zanesville, Centerville, Ohio; Naples, Orlando, Florida; Wayne, New Jersey; Times Square, NYC or anyplace on the planet, McDonald's corporation, thank you! I'M LOVIN' IT!!!
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
GIVE 'EM A COOKIE!
I have noticed that there is a direct proportion between "hunger" and bullying in our elementary and early middle schools. The more healthy the lunch, the hungrier, more edgy, more aggressive the child. The more full, the more docile, content, nicer the child. From about junior high school through young adulthood, the young bully emerges into a vile, anti-social,violent blight on others. The behavior, I noticed begins at an early, hungry age. I have been observing bullying for some time. You might remember my blog: "Teach Your Children Well, Or Better Than You Have!" The parents of bullies should be held accountable for nurturing, fostering, encouraging and enabling objectionable behavior in their children. The ignorance of "Atta boy/girl!" is sleazy, totally unacceptable and should never be condoned.
Here is my thought:
President Kennedy promoted Physical Fitness. Mrs. Obama wants youth to MOVE. But, children are not going to joyfully "Move it, move it. You've got to move it, move it. Move it!" if they are hungry. Comfort food is not necessarily broccoli and tofu. Comfort food traditionally includes meatloaf and macaroni and cheese. I am not suggesting that we want to pork up our children. Homemade, natural, nutritious, variegated, appealing foods are preferable to any fare out there. School lunches used to be satisfying. Lunches packed at home, even more so. Our school cafeteria workers can slice, dice, stew, chill any and all vegetables and fruits on the planet and place them artistically (or not) on trays and watch big black trash bags being filled to tip capacity with those very items. (Understand, I love veggies and fruit of all kinds, except okra. Two of my three grandchildren delight in them as well.) I have personally observed a janitor with the quickest reflexes ever! He could catch and stow apples as they, mid air, made their way from trays being "dumped" into garbage cans. That man was good! Any professional ball team would sign him up in a heartbeat!
Before healthy nutritious mania, children brought possibly "last night's leftovers" on a Kaiser roll, Twinkies and bought chocolate milk for lunch. Those who "bought" would maybe trade a chocolate chip cookie from their trays for one of the Twinkies and perhaps have some of the homemade lunch in exchange for half of their sandwich. Chocolate milk, again, washed down that meal. On the playground, afterwards, full, satisfied children did not necessarily have the edge, hunger, hollow discomfort to "pick on anybody". Hunger = Grouchy. Most children played together. Of course, there are always leaders, tough kids, but disputes were settled, "evened up". At home cereal, oatmeal, fruit at breakfast and traditional meals sometimes based on ethnicity and convenience rounded our children's diets. Lunch could be fun, but, EAT THOSE ASPARAGUS at dinner!
I have witnessed the jealousy that arises when a child might have brought something scrumptious from home, from the child who buys low carb, low fat, low salt, no sugar balanced lunch. I have heard victims of the wilted celery stick beg for a chip or a taste of a more appealing lunch. I realize that children do not necessarily know what is good for them and we can't feed them cotton candy three times a day, but... Why not a lunch of a salami sandwich, Sun chips and a chocolate chip cookie?
From the disappointing cafeteria, the hungry child on the playground, has an itch that he can't scratch. He becomes consumed by jealousy and rage, but just does not know why. Chances are that the well fed, happy child, who may or may not have shared, or any other singled out child who is satisfied becomes his victim! The hungry child is just plain old grouchy, cranky manifesting infantile behavior. A baby cries and fusses when it is hungry. The child in school is nasty when he is hungry. Just pay attention!
BEFORE an incident, SQUASH bullies. Head them off at the pass! GIVE 'EM A COOKIE!
Here is my thought:
President Kennedy promoted Physical Fitness. Mrs. Obama wants youth to MOVE. But, children are not going to joyfully "Move it, move it. You've got to move it, move it. Move it!" if they are hungry. Comfort food is not necessarily broccoli and tofu. Comfort food traditionally includes meatloaf and macaroni and cheese. I am not suggesting that we want to pork up our children. Homemade, natural, nutritious, variegated, appealing foods are preferable to any fare out there. School lunches used to be satisfying. Lunches packed at home, even more so. Our school cafeteria workers can slice, dice, stew, chill any and all vegetables and fruits on the planet and place them artistically (or not) on trays and watch big black trash bags being filled to tip capacity with those very items. (Understand, I love veggies and fruit of all kinds, except okra. Two of my three grandchildren delight in them as well.) I have personally observed a janitor with the quickest reflexes ever! He could catch and stow apples as they, mid air, made their way from trays being "dumped" into garbage cans. That man was good! Any professional ball team would sign him up in a heartbeat!
Before healthy nutritious mania, children brought possibly "last night's leftovers" on a Kaiser roll, Twinkies and bought chocolate milk for lunch. Those who "bought" would maybe trade a chocolate chip cookie from their trays for one of the Twinkies and perhaps have some of the homemade lunch in exchange for half of their sandwich. Chocolate milk, again, washed down that meal. On the playground, afterwards, full, satisfied children did not necessarily have the edge, hunger, hollow discomfort to "pick on anybody". Hunger = Grouchy. Most children played together. Of course, there are always leaders, tough kids, but disputes were settled, "evened up". At home cereal, oatmeal, fruit at breakfast and traditional meals sometimes based on ethnicity and convenience rounded our children's diets. Lunch could be fun, but, EAT THOSE ASPARAGUS at dinner!
I have witnessed the jealousy that arises when a child might have brought something scrumptious from home, from the child who buys low carb, low fat, low salt, no sugar balanced lunch. I have heard victims of the wilted celery stick beg for a chip or a taste of a more appealing lunch. I realize that children do not necessarily know what is good for them and we can't feed them cotton candy three times a day, but... Why not a lunch of a salami sandwich, Sun chips and a chocolate chip cookie?
From the disappointing cafeteria, the hungry child on the playground, has an itch that he can't scratch. He becomes consumed by jealousy and rage, but just does not know why. Chances are that the well fed, happy child, who may or may not have shared, or any other singled out child who is satisfied becomes his victim! The hungry child is just plain old grouchy, cranky manifesting infantile behavior. A baby cries and fusses when it is hungry. The child in school is nasty when he is hungry. Just pay attention!
BEFORE an incident, SQUASH bullies. Head them off at the pass! GIVE 'EM A COOKIE!
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
HAPPY EASTER SISTER MARY MUSIC
When my children went to Our Lady of the Valley R.C. School in Wayne New Jersey, I became friendly with Sister Mary Theresa, aka, Sister Mary Music. She was the music minister in our parish. My son played the drums and my daughter sang with the Children's Choir. Sister had some health issues when she wasn't making that organ smoke. Sister had great faith and dynamite Rosary Beads, though, to be able to relax and have me drive her to doctor appointments, to eye surgery, assorted errands and shhhh....don't tell Sister Ave (the Superior, at the time), cruising with my roof open, blasting the radio to the park for picnics and a bottle of wine. She just loved riding in that car and trying to scratch up some drag races.
One day, during Holy Week, as we were parting company in front of the Convent and hugging, I said: "Oh, go get some rest Sister and have a Happy Easter!" With that, fury descended on me from the formerly sweet Sister. I swear, I felt the flames of hell licking the hem of my skirt! "That's not acceptable! The entire Crucifixion, death of Jesus, and this, our holiest week of our Liturgical Year, just NOT HAPPY, Laura! You should be more respectful of our Savior!...I would have thought..." And on and on and on... I watched her for a while, remembered that she was not one of my children ranting, but God's and said: "I get that, I really do. But, just think of how HAPPY Jesus was to come alive again, to be off of that hard rock and out of those borrowed sheets, have a tete-a-tete with Mary Magdalene, strut His stuff at Pilate and his goons and manage to crank open those gate of Heaven for all of those good souls lined up waiting, probably cheering. I don't know about you, Sister, but, I'm thinking that the Easter/Resurrection thing is on the Happier side of Lent." She stood, stared at me for a nano-second and in a hushed voice said: "I see your point. I will pray for you though, dear. And, by the way, don't tell Ave that we went joy riding, next time we'll shut those punks down...great wine, thanks for lunch!" She turned on her sensible shoe's heel and went inside.
Sister died about a month after that, not from my driving, thank you, but whenever I say: "Happy Easter" to anyone other than the heathens who surround me, I miss her. I think of her. So, if on Easter Sunday, you catch me looking up...join me in saying: HAPPY EASTER , SISTER MARY MUSIC!!!
One day, during Holy Week, as we were parting company in front of the Convent and hugging, I said: "Oh, go get some rest Sister and have a Happy Easter!" With that, fury descended on me from the formerly sweet Sister. I swear, I felt the flames of hell licking the hem of my skirt! "That's not acceptable! The entire Crucifixion, death of Jesus, and this, our holiest week of our Liturgical Year, just NOT HAPPY, Laura! You should be more respectful of our Savior!...I would have thought..." And on and on and on... I watched her for a while, remembered that she was not one of my children ranting, but God's and said: "I get that, I really do. But, just think of how HAPPY Jesus was to come alive again, to be off of that hard rock and out of those borrowed sheets, have a tete-a-tete with Mary Magdalene, strut His stuff at Pilate and his goons and manage to crank open those gate of Heaven for all of those good souls lined up waiting, probably cheering. I don't know about you, Sister, but, I'm thinking that the Easter/Resurrection thing is on the Happier side of Lent." She stood, stared at me for a nano-second and in a hushed voice said: "I see your point. I will pray for you though, dear. And, by the way, don't tell Ave that we went joy riding, next time we'll shut those punks down...great wine, thanks for lunch!" She turned on her sensible shoe's heel and went inside.
Sister died about a month after that, not from my driving, thank you, but whenever I say: "Happy Easter" to anyone other than the heathens who surround me, I miss her. I think of her. So, if on Easter Sunday, you catch me looking up...join me in saying: HAPPY EASTER , SISTER MARY MUSIC!!!
Thursday, April 10, 2014
I ASK YOU BABY BOOMERS: WERE WE SO GOOD, THAT IT'S NO GOOD?
I am a Baby Boomer. I am a divorced Baby Boomer. I am a divorced Baby Boomer Grandparent. My social circle is comprised of Baby Boomers who are either divorced, widowed, married, yet mostly grandparents. There are, by the way about 76 million Baby Boomers out there. We talk about music, movies, our parents (sorry Mom and Dad, but we do), our lawns, our condo associations, our cars, possibly Viet Nam, fundraisers, Church, history, our Alma Maters/degrees (I know, I know, I do what most consider hobbies), taxes, the "Market", latest clothing trends (got 'em), latest electronic trends (can't get 'em) and over coffee, a glass of wine, possibly a beer...our children/our grandchildren.
We grew up in an era of "responsibility". Yes, we enjoyed the activities, the "craziness" of teenage years, sports, dancing schools, band trips, shenanigans during lunch, study, trying to "cut" school, "everyone else is doing it..." But, most of our Dads earned the family's income out of the home and our Moms ran the "castle" so to speak. We learned respect, accountability. We were educated (not always loving it, I know), getting in "trouble" in school was not the best choice, because at home you'd be in "bigger trouble." We were taught that the purpose of an education was to obtain a "good JOB". Many worked for the "extras", put our own gas in our "jalopies" that we worked on for years until we could drive. I, personally, danced with Billy (another Blog) to win record albums in contests. There was not extra money for some things like records, or some of the craft/art supplies that I craved. Things were moderate, measured. There were family vacations that we didn't want to end at the beach or a lake.
Of course, in high school, there were incidents like smoking in the boys' room", drinking behind the Junior High on Friday nights, or even an occasional cherry bomb in the toilet in the boys' room. But, by college, or in the military, we still had fun, humor, pranks, but we became adults with responsibility and to sound repetitive , respect. Respect for authority, for parents, for family, for God, Country. We marched into the Viet Nam Was, some pro, some con. We fought or demonstrated. We were treated shabbily upon the return home, but we maintained our dignity remaining strong, proud, moral. The Boomers bridged war, technology, radical social, economic changes, but we vowed to make the world better, easier for our children.
What happened?
Many of the Boomers' children are productive, successful, happy. However, I find that the majority of Boomers with whom I have come in contact, wonder "What happened? Where did we go wrong?" What is the common denominator that drove boomers into the despair and statistic of approximately 2 1/2 million of us raising our grandchildren? The number increases by at least 1 million of those assuming more parental responsibility. As we grew up, we visited our grandparents. Perhaps there was a standing "Sunday Dinner" weekly. We spent holidays, overnight was a treat. They attended our Dance Recitals, our Graduations, Birthday dinners, occasionally baby-sat. But, the vast majority of our parents raised us, taught us, aged because of us.
I am led to believe that we may have, in our drive to make things easier for our children, to let them grow as expressive individuals, be exposed to "everything" such as music, culture, art, upscale organized sports, while striving to remain youthful and "cool" ourselves, we just may have cultivated a collection of miserable, unhappy, unproductive, over exposed, problem ridden young adults. Many of the young men have problems with drugs, alcohol, work ethics. Our daughters are out of control. They are equipped with their degrees, yet bottles of Vodka. Picking up the slack for our children, as we have always done, we Boomers, now are going to school meetings, arranging lessons, seeing to homework/education, clothing feeding and in some cases, becoming their sports coaches or the "backstage" mothers at dance recitals. We are Santa Clauses, Easter Bunnies, we ride the Carousel and the Train. We are pushing swings, bouncing up and down on teeter-totters. We're doing it all over again. Our children are selfish. We taught them to expect the world given to them, not earned. We tried and tried to be so generous, understanding, to participate and be the "go to" parent, that we forgot that they must learn to sustain themselves and continue life.
There was an old saying: "A good parent gives their children Roots and Wings. Roots so that they have a solid anchor and know that they are loved and accepted; Wings in order that they fly and thrive."
Some of us, Boomers, have strangled our children with roots that now bind us as well. We didn't get the "wing" thing down.
Our conversations among ourselves include statements like: "Do you have the children this weekend? OR "I'm taking my daughter to outpatient counseling...she was discharged from de-tox." OR "I have new outfits for the girls' school pictures, Mom's still in the psych ward" OR "My daughter hates me. I have spent nothing but time and money on her...gotta run and pick up the kids from school!" OR "I kept the boys while my husband went to that place, just in time before the drug raid mentioned in the paper, looking for her." How many homes have become multi-generational, or how many of our new cars have racked up 7,000 miles in three weeks?
Though we compare notes, help each other out, arrange play dates, struggle through another round of child raising, we would not ever, ever drop the ball. NEVER. The Boomers are paying the piper for trying to be good, involved, interesting parents, thereby encouraging our children to play too hard. Our hearts are with our Grandchildren. None of us would trade the responsibility, the love, the little voices when they say: "Meme (may-may), O Pa, Grandma, Pop-Pop, Nannie, Granny, Grandma, Grandpa, you are the only one that I can trust! I love you!"
So, Boomers, we have a chance for redemption. A "do-over" with our Grandchildren. (I pray that we don't make the same mistakes, if we only knew what exactly they were) We love them more than ourselves or our lives. It's said that people live longer now than ever before! It's a good thing, because we have a crop of children to give roots and wings. Let's get it right!
I ask you, Boomers, were we so good that it's no good?
We grew up in an era of "responsibility". Yes, we enjoyed the activities, the "craziness" of teenage years, sports, dancing schools, band trips, shenanigans during lunch, study, trying to "cut" school, "everyone else is doing it..." But, most of our Dads earned the family's income out of the home and our Moms ran the "castle" so to speak. We learned respect, accountability. We were educated (not always loving it, I know), getting in "trouble" in school was not the best choice, because at home you'd be in "bigger trouble." We were taught that the purpose of an education was to obtain a "good JOB". Many worked for the "extras", put our own gas in our "jalopies" that we worked on for years until we could drive. I, personally, danced with Billy (another Blog) to win record albums in contests. There was not extra money for some things like records, or some of the craft/art supplies that I craved. Things were moderate, measured. There were family vacations that we didn't want to end at the beach or a lake.
Of course, in high school, there were incidents like smoking in the boys' room", drinking behind the Junior High on Friday nights, or even an occasional cherry bomb in the toilet in the boys' room. But, by college, or in the military, we still had fun, humor, pranks, but we became adults with responsibility and to sound repetitive , respect. Respect for authority, for parents, for family, for God, Country. We marched into the Viet Nam Was, some pro, some con. We fought or demonstrated. We were treated shabbily upon the return home, but we maintained our dignity remaining strong, proud, moral. The Boomers bridged war, technology, radical social, economic changes, but we vowed to make the world better, easier for our children.
What happened?
Many of the Boomers' children are productive, successful, happy. However, I find that the majority of Boomers with whom I have come in contact, wonder "What happened? Where did we go wrong?" What is the common denominator that drove boomers into the despair and statistic of approximately 2 1/2 million of us raising our grandchildren? The number increases by at least 1 million of those assuming more parental responsibility. As we grew up, we visited our grandparents. Perhaps there was a standing "Sunday Dinner" weekly. We spent holidays, overnight was a treat. They attended our Dance Recitals, our Graduations, Birthday dinners, occasionally baby-sat. But, the vast majority of our parents raised us, taught us, aged because of us.
I am led to believe that we may have, in our drive to make things easier for our children, to let them grow as expressive individuals, be exposed to "everything" such as music, culture, art, upscale organized sports, while striving to remain youthful and "cool" ourselves, we just may have cultivated a collection of miserable, unhappy, unproductive, over exposed, problem ridden young adults. Many of the young men have problems with drugs, alcohol, work ethics. Our daughters are out of control. They are equipped with their degrees, yet bottles of Vodka. Picking up the slack for our children, as we have always done, we Boomers, now are going to school meetings, arranging lessons, seeing to homework/education, clothing feeding and in some cases, becoming their sports coaches or the "backstage" mothers at dance recitals. We are Santa Clauses, Easter Bunnies, we ride the Carousel and the Train. We are pushing swings, bouncing up and down on teeter-totters. We're doing it all over again. Our children are selfish. We taught them to expect the world given to them, not earned. We tried and tried to be so generous, understanding, to participate and be the "go to" parent, that we forgot that they must learn to sustain themselves and continue life.
There was an old saying: "A good parent gives their children Roots and Wings. Roots so that they have a solid anchor and know that they are loved and accepted; Wings in order that they fly and thrive."
Some of us, Boomers, have strangled our children with roots that now bind us as well. We didn't get the "wing" thing down.
Our conversations among ourselves include statements like: "Do you have the children this weekend? OR "I'm taking my daughter to outpatient counseling...she was discharged from de-tox." OR "I have new outfits for the girls' school pictures, Mom's still in the psych ward" OR "My daughter hates me. I have spent nothing but time and money on her...gotta run and pick up the kids from school!" OR "I kept the boys while my husband went to that place, just in time before the drug raid mentioned in the paper, looking for her." How many homes have become multi-generational, or how many of our new cars have racked up 7,000 miles in three weeks?
Though we compare notes, help each other out, arrange play dates, struggle through another round of child raising, we would not ever, ever drop the ball. NEVER. The Boomers are paying the piper for trying to be good, involved, interesting parents, thereby encouraging our children to play too hard. Our hearts are with our Grandchildren. None of us would trade the responsibility, the love, the little voices when they say: "Meme (may-may), O Pa, Grandma, Pop-Pop, Nannie, Granny, Grandma, Grandpa, you are the only one that I can trust! I love you!"
So, Boomers, we have a chance for redemption. A "do-over" with our Grandchildren. (I pray that we don't make the same mistakes, if we only knew what exactly they were) We love them more than ourselves or our lives. It's said that people live longer now than ever before! It's a good thing, because we have a crop of children to give roots and wings. Let's get it right!
I ask you, Boomers, were we so good that it's no good?
Friday, March 21, 2014
THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH (no joke...the GREATEST E-V-E-R!)
My three young grandchildren were having a terrible day, one Friday. They had worked so hard on their "Pinewood Derby" cars for a month. Unfortunately, they are products of divorce. The kind of divorce where Dad hates Mom (my daughter) more than he loves the children. (Child support w-a-y behind also) In spite of pleas, offers to "switch weekends", offers of an extra weekend, visiting for only one of the two nights of the weekend (going to Dad's after the Derby), offers for Dad to attend the Derby, participate and that I would do the driving, were refuted with great hostility. My heart broke as I stood with Todd (10 years old) as he pleaded, cried and begged to participate in the Pinewood Derby. Dad only wanted to punish Mom, claiming last minute (not so) and on and on as he waved his "court orders" like a flag. The two younger children (Tess, 9 and Tanner 6) agreed with Todd, but were fearful of the classically cruel step-mother (if Dad and she were married...simply a live in). But, no one could move the mountain of disagree-ability. When Dad threatened little Todd that he would have me - Meme (may-may) arrested for attempted kidnapping, if he refused to get into his Dad's car and went into mine, Todd reluctantly, miserably agreed to go with Dad. Todd then said, as he hugged and kissed me: "Meme, you are the only one that I trust. I'll see you Sunday."
What I did not mention to Dad, was that I had tickets for RINGLING BROTHERS, BARNUM AND BAILEY CIRCUS immediately after visitation! I am a" Circus Junkie". I have attended Ringling Brothers, Cole Brothers, Wallace Brothers and the Pan Am Circuses since I was the size of a thimble! After I graduated from College, I wanted to attend "Clown College" having been inspired by Bill Balentine's book about the Circus and Clown Alley. My parents were less than enthused. However, my father told my mother to tell me, just last week, that the Circus has a clown shortage and perhaps, I just might consider auditioning. I have a perfect "graduation act" ready, but, I think that the Trio's parents might be on the same page, for once, if we all ran away and joined the Circus.
The trio was returned to me at 4 pm. After extreme hugs, kisses and cheers, we drove to Cincinnati, caught the "Pre-show" of the Circus. The children during the Pre-Show were invited into the center ring to meet the performers, obtain autographs, get up close and personal with the animals. The cast was gracious and radiated warmth implying that they were happy to see us! We, then situated ourselves in the front row with a perfect view of EVERYTHING that was about to unfold!
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, CHILDREN OF ALL AGES, WELCOME TO RINGLING BROTHERS, BARNUM AND BAILEY CIRCUS...THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH!"
The weekend dissolved into lights, color, music, magic, clowns, acrobats, elephants, big cats. During the Circus Parade, we waved to the elephant riders, horses, dogs, clowns, King Charles Troupe, aerialists, acrobats, animal trainers, dancers. They all smiled and waved back! Todd and a clown had an exchange; a clown flirted with Tess; a third clown hi-fived Tanner! We laughed, sang, stomped, danced, totally immersed ourselves in the joy of the Greatest Show on Earth! "Meme! Look! They are going to shoot someone out of a cannon!" "Meme! Look! How do they go around on that thing and not fall off?" "Meme! Look! That tiger is so big!" And so the amazement continued throughout the "Built to Amaze" edition of the Circus. Dancers were extremely talented, embraced the audience and then broke out into "Gangman Style". Tanner simply got up and pranced along! Popcorn, soda, cotton candy, cool circus hats and ices in elephant mugs added to the uninhibited glee. We hung onto every minute! The entertainment of the Circus is so varied that there is something for everyone to enjoy.
Finally, the performance ended. I could feel tears swelling as the Ringmaster said: "MAY ALL YOUR DAYS BE CIRCUS DAYS!"
As we pulled out of the parking garage at US BANK ARENA, Todd said, "You know, Meme, now the weekend seems so far away from us. The circus makes me happy and makes everything good again." Tess and Tanner, readily agreed. Todd continued: "We can only trust you, and maybe, we should remember and try together that all our days be circus days...just like the Greatest Show on Earth!"
What I did not mention to Dad, was that I had tickets for RINGLING BROTHERS, BARNUM AND BAILEY CIRCUS immediately after visitation! I am a" Circus Junkie". I have attended Ringling Brothers, Cole Brothers, Wallace Brothers and the Pan Am Circuses since I was the size of a thimble! After I graduated from College, I wanted to attend "Clown College" having been inspired by Bill Balentine's book about the Circus and Clown Alley. My parents were less than enthused. However, my father told my mother to tell me, just last week, that the Circus has a clown shortage and perhaps, I just might consider auditioning. I have a perfect "graduation act" ready, but, I think that the Trio's parents might be on the same page, for once, if we all ran away and joined the Circus.
The trio was returned to me at 4 pm. After extreme hugs, kisses and cheers, we drove to Cincinnati, caught the "Pre-show" of the Circus. The children during the Pre-Show were invited into the center ring to meet the performers, obtain autographs, get up close and personal with the animals. The cast was gracious and radiated warmth implying that they were happy to see us! We, then situated ourselves in the front row with a perfect view of EVERYTHING that was about to unfold!
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, CHILDREN OF ALL AGES, WELCOME TO RINGLING BROTHERS, BARNUM AND BAILEY CIRCUS...THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH!"
The weekend dissolved into lights, color, music, magic, clowns, acrobats, elephants, big cats. During the Circus Parade, we waved to the elephant riders, horses, dogs, clowns, King Charles Troupe, aerialists, acrobats, animal trainers, dancers. They all smiled and waved back! Todd and a clown had an exchange; a clown flirted with Tess; a third clown hi-fived Tanner! We laughed, sang, stomped, danced, totally immersed ourselves in the joy of the Greatest Show on Earth! "Meme! Look! They are going to shoot someone out of a cannon!" "Meme! Look! How do they go around on that thing and not fall off?" "Meme! Look! That tiger is so big!" And so the amazement continued throughout the "Built to Amaze" edition of the Circus. Dancers were extremely talented, embraced the audience and then broke out into "Gangman Style". Tanner simply got up and pranced along! Popcorn, soda, cotton candy, cool circus hats and ices in elephant mugs added to the uninhibited glee. We hung onto every minute! The entertainment of the Circus is so varied that there is something for everyone to enjoy.
Finally, the performance ended. I could feel tears swelling as the Ringmaster said: "MAY ALL YOUR DAYS BE CIRCUS DAYS!"
As we pulled out of the parking garage at US BANK ARENA, Todd said, "You know, Meme, now the weekend seems so far away from us. The circus makes me happy and makes everything good again." Tess and Tanner, readily agreed. Todd continued: "We can only trust you, and maybe, we should remember and try together that all our days be circus days...just like the Greatest Show on Earth!"
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