I have to say that presidential elections bring the best out in me. This one is turning out to be the most hate filled one in my lifetime. President Obama isn't even running but that doesn't stop Republicans from lying about him. The entire Republican cast of characters is loony--seriously. Every day I can place a quote on my Facebook page that is outrageous. Today, one of the best was the Ted Cruz suggestion of Phil Robertson for UN Ambassador. I can hear it now as Phil takes out his duck call before he speaks. And then there was yesterday, when he suggested as President he wouldn't coddle those soldiers with celiac disease. Did he bother to check if it was a real disease, hell no? Having resided in Texas for 26 years before recently returning to my home state of Pennsylvania, I can tell you Cruz is not who we want for President. Even his college room mate despises him. He's a Catholic who doesn't think the Pope has a right to comment on who is acting like a Christian. Seriously, if the Pope can comment then none of these candidates should be commenting either. Ted has done everything in his power to strip rights from women. I don't know about you, but I sure do not want to go backwards. Cruz is downright creepy. One of the creepiest things he's ever done is read Green Eggs and Ham during his supposed filibuster, although I don't know if that was worse than his Darth Vader imitation.
But, let's not forget the rest of the Republican presidential hopefuls. Next post I think I'll take a look at John Kasich.
Saturday, February 20, 2016
Friday, July 4, 2014
Sign Posts
Happy 4th of July! At this point in my life I see it as a signpost that marks the halfway point of my summer. I am well aware today that in a little over a month, I go back to my job as school librarian in Carrollton Farmers Branch Independent School District. There are a myriad of things that are different about this 4th, however. First and foremost, this coming school year will be my last as a professional educator (not that you ever stop educating). I launched my career in February of 1971, so I've spent considerable time educating young people. My first class of fourth graders are quinquagenerians now (there was only 10 or 11 years separating us). Despite taking time off to be with my own babies, I've still guided kids in every decade since 1971. It's been a rewarding adventure. Regardless of all negative attention education gets these days, I wouldn't change a moment of interaction with my young students. I take great pleasure in hearing and reconnecting with former students. It is amazing the things they remember about their year with me. The end of this school year will come with a bittersweet sadness, but also great anticipation of what will come as I embark on retirement.
I've been busy sewing this summer. Lots of projects in the works. Counting down the days to the start of school means I won't be able to devote hours on end to my creations. Here's a picture of one of my most recent.
I am working on some shirts to give away as prizes to students in my summer reading contest. I am also creating some decorations for my grandson, Robbie's first birthday. Goodness these remaining summer days better pass slowly.
Modano is the other reason for summer to stretch on. No, not Mike Modano, although I do like him. So much so that we named our new puppy in his honor. "Mo" is a delightful yellow lab mix. His parentage is somewhat mysterious as we have no idea who his father was. Our dog trainer rescued a pregnant lab and she gave birth to 9 puppies. Mo was the runt of the litter--but size isn't everything. What he lacks in stature he makes up for in personality. He is the sweetest, friendliest and most willing to please dog I've ever owned...well aside from my sweet Bella. They are getting along quite well, with Bella taking on the role of big sis with gusto. I will miss not spending my days with them when I go back to work.
Summer allows me to spend time with my beautiful grandsons, one almost 12 and one about to turn 1. LOVE our movie dates with Dylan and being able to care for Robbie when he isn't feeling well enough to go to daycare is wonderful too. Both are handsome boys who light up the room with their smiles. In addition, I've gained a granddaughter in Ellie, my son-in-law's daughter.
Much as I'd love the summer to last and last for the three reasons I've already mentioned, I am hoping it flies by too, bringing us closer to hockey season! CAN. NOT. WAIT. for that first game on October 9. We have tickets for 22 games and I am going to love every single one! The new line up of players should guarantee a fabulous season and get us past the first round of the Stanley Cup playoffs.
I've been busy sewing this summer. Lots of projects in the works. Counting down the days to the start of school means I won't be able to devote hours on end to my creations. Here's a picture of one of my most recent.
Modano is the other reason for summer to stretch on. No, not Mike Modano, although I do like him. So much so that we named our new puppy in his honor. "Mo" is a delightful yellow lab mix. His parentage is somewhat mysterious as we have no idea who his father was. Our dog trainer rescued a pregnant lab and she gave birth to 9 puppies. Mo was the runt of the litter--but size isn't everything. What he lacks in stature he makes up for in personality. He is the sweetest, friendliest and most willing to please dog I've ever owned...well aside from my sweet Bella. They are getting along quite well, with Bella taking on the role of big sis with gusto. I will miss not spending my days with them when I go back to work.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Not too many words, just pictures. Finally got the camera of my dreams...and I am trying to use it as often as possible. It takes the best pictures and it so incredibly easy to use. My favorite subject is of course my puppy, Bella. She is marvelously photogenic, when you can get her to slow down. Since we were getting ready for the holiday last weekend, I took several pictures of my holiday decorations.
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Football!
September 1, 2012
D2 football began last night. This is the time of year when I hate being so far from my alma mater, Bloomsburg University of Pennsylvania. We played in Massachusetts last night and we won, 44-28. There are some things that still concern me, but it was the first game and I think adjustments will be made in future games. We are definitely a rushing team...and sometimes that is bothersome to me, but it keeps the Huskies competitive without a doubt. To all my D2 friends, I invite you to view the picture of the latest north Texas high school stadium. Wouldn't we all love to have this stadium for our D2 teams. This is the brand new, Allen ISD high school stadium.
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On other notes, the first week of school is in the books. All went smoothly, although we are really growing. Not sure of the final count, because I am certain more students will arrive after Labor Day, but we are looking at approximately 580 -600 students with Pre-Kindergarten added in. That's a lot of classes visiting the library so I will be busy!
Once home from work, my days and nights are filled with Bella Zeta. What a beauty she is becoming! Now four months old and about 30 pounds, we are getting a picture of just how big she will become. We're thinking close to 80 pounds. Her personality is lively, but not aggressive. She's friendly, inquisitive, and definitely the smartest dog I've ever owned. Now that can be good and bad. She does respond to commands fairly well and I think once she comes back from professional training she'll be the IDEAL dog. Not that I don't love her already!
D2 football began last night. This is the time of year when I hate being so far from my alma mater, Bloomsburg University of Pennsylvania. We played in Massachusetts last night and we won, 44-28. There are some things that still concern me, but it was the first game and I think adjustments will be made in future games. We are definitely a rushing team...and sometimes that is bothersome to me, but it keeps the Huskies competitive without a doubt. To all my D2 friends, I invite you to view the picture of the latest north Texas high school stadium. Wouldn't we all love to have this stadium for our D2 teams. This is the brand new, Allen ISD high school stadium.
.jpg)
On other notes, the first week of school is in the books. All went smoothly, although we are really growing. Not sure of the final count, because I am certain more students will arrive after Labor Day, but we are looking at approximately 580 -600 students with Pre-Kindergarten added in. That's a lot of classes visiting the library so I will be busy!
Once home from work, my days and nights are filled with Bella Zeta. What a beauty she is becoming! Now four months old and about 30 pounds, we are getting a picture of just how big she will become. We're thinking close to 80 pounds. Her personality is lively, but not aggressive. She's friendly, inquisitive, and definitely the smartest dog I've ever owned. Now that can be good and bad. She does respond to commands fairly well and I think once she comes back from professional training she'll be the IDEAL dog. Not that I don't love her already!
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Spinelli's Bella Zeta
There's been a big change at our house. It comes in the form of a little package named Bella Zeta. Bella Zeta means beautiful little girl in Italian, and she definitely fits her name! We picked her up on Sunday, FAther's Day, even though she was a gift for me. She is such a precious little friend. Her mother, Tara, is a Standard French Poodle. Her daddy is a an Italian Spinone.
She has a delightfully pleasant personality, very laid back like her Spinone ancestors, but quite playful as well. She has the most expressive blue-gray eyes I've ever seen in a dog. They say that Spinone eyes are noted for their human like quality and Bella definitely has those eyes. When she looks at me, I melt.
Her first trip to the vet was perfect...no problems. She's already had her first dose of heart worm medication and is scheduled for two more visit to round out her puppy shots. I think I might cry on those days, just as I did when my kids got shots.
And lest you be fooled by her diminutive size, she'll grow...to about 50-70 pounds and 22-26 inches high. More to come!
She has a delightfully pleasant personality, very laid back like her Spinone ancestors, but quite playful as well. She has the most expressive blue-gray eyes I've ever seen in a dog. They say that Spinone eyes are noted for their human like quality and Bella definitely has those eyes. When she looks at me, I melt.
And lest you be fooled by her diminutive size, she'll grow...to about 50-70 pounds and 22-26 inches high. More to come!
Sunday, November 13, 2011
How does this happen?
Being a Pennsylvania native, I have carefully followed the unfolding scandal at Penn State. Several things have really bothered me as I watch the news coverage and videos. What is predominantly on my mind is the failure to consider the safety and welfare of these children that were abused at the hands of Mr. Sandusky while Penn State administrators and coaches knew about it and did nothing.
I've taken the time to read the twenty plus pages of the grand jury indictment. If you haven't read it, you should. You can find it here. I am appalled at the number of victims already uncovered, with the hint that there may well be more. Perhaps the most disturbing fact is that McQueary, then a graduate assistant at Penn State, witnessed a rape of a ten year old boy in the locker room shower of the football facility. Not only did this 27 year old do nothing to stop what was happening, he apparently had to call his dad to ask what to do next. Really? At 27, being a teacher and a mom, I am confident that I would have intervened, even if I needed a baseball bat, and I also would have called the police—that night.
Joe testified to the following in the grand jury testimony:
Joseph V. Paterno testified to receiving the graduate assistant’s report at his home on Saturday morning. Paterno testified that the graduate assistant was very upset. Paterno called Tim Curley (“Curley”), Penn State Athletic Director and Paterno’s immediate superior, to his home the very next day, a Sunday, and reported to him that the graduate assistant had seen Jerry Sandusky in the Lasch Building showers fondling or doing something of a sexual nature to a young boy.”
Something of a sexual nature? McQueary testified that he reported what he had seen to Paterno. Read the document to see exactly what McQueary saw. Here’s my next big question. Even if you only heard the words “sexual nature” and “young boy,” wouldn’t that be enough for you to immediately call your superior, not wait a day? And speaking of his superior, am I the only one who is a bit shocked that Joe had enough clout to make his superior come to him, not the other way around? I know I probably shouldn’t be shocked, but I have been out of Pennsylvania for over thirty years.
It was wrong and both of these men knew it was wrong. Yes, Joe notified the proper university officials, but did he ever ask a question about what they did about it. He apparently did not, because several years later, Mr. Sandusky was still recruiting for Penn State. In fact, reports indicate that Mr. Sandusky went on recruiting visits as recently as this past spring, during the grand jury investigation.
Another disturbing fact is that reports of sexual abuse surfaced long before this report by McQueary. According to MSNBC: “ … in 1998, Sandusky was investigated after he was accused of "behaving in a sexually inappropriate manner" with a boy in a shower at the football team's facilities, the grand jury said. The report said an attorney for Second Mile who was also university counsel, Wendell Courtney, was aware of the allegations.” The entire article can be found here. He was observed again in 2000, in the showers of a Penn State facility by a janitor. The janitor tells his immediate superior who advises him to file a report, but since the janitor was a temporary employee, it doesn’t get done. So, 2002 was not the first time that Penn State facilities were used by Mr. Sandusky to abuse young boys, nor was it the first time he was observed or investigated.
Sandusky is arrested on November 5, 2011. Joe makes a statement on Sunday, November 6, 2011, released by his son Scott in which he states: "If this is true we were all fooled ... we grieve for the victims and their families. They are in our prayers." Joe goes on to defend his actions in going to administrators and not following up. On Wednesday, the day after his press conference was cancelled, Paterno announces his retirement effective at the end of the season with this pre-emptive warning to the board. "At this moment the board of trustees should not spend a single minute discussing my status. They have far more important matters to address." (Atlanta Journal) Wednesday evening Joe Paterno is relieved of his position as head coach of the Penn State football program.
What occurs following this is what disturbs and grieves me most. The outrage displayed by the students, alumni and fans of Penn State for the firing of the legendary Paterno, far overshadows anyone’s grief for what has happened to the victims in this scandal. How and why do you side with a man who covered up the acts of a depraved person? The same man who was, until this past week, suggesting they allegations may not be true. Joe, you have at least one eye-witness on your staff and quite probably there are more who were afraid to speak up. Angry mobs overturning a mobile news van, blaming the media for Joe’s dismissal are the scenes displayed across the country and world-wide. When one Penn State grad stands outside the stadium bearing two signs that say, “Put abused kids first,” and Don’t be fooled, they all knew. Tom Bradley, everyone must go.” He is ridiculed, cursed, slapped, showered with beer and over the course of an hour, only one person stopped to agree with the man. (Washington Times article) While the fans inside the stadium seemed reticent and sad, outside the stadium people were still loudly protesting the firing of JoePA. I’ve heard of mob mentality before, even seen it first hand at anti Vietnam rallies while a college student, but I have never witnessed people so concerned with the future of a football program and the 60 year career of an 85 year old man who had clearly not done enough to protect these young victims. Several former players have been heard defending Coach Paterno's actions, saying he did what he had to do. Maybe as suggested in Micah 6:8, he should have done more.I sincerely hope that the board continues to clean house at Penn State. They did the right thing for the student body and the university. Not until the house is clean, can this football program move forward with the pride of Nittany Lions.
I've taken the time to read the twenty plus pages of the grand jury indictment. If you haven't read it, you should. You can find it here. I am appalled at the number of victims already uncovered, with the hint that there may well be more. Perhaps the most disturbing fact is that McQueary, then a graduate assistant at Penn State, witnessed a rape of a ten year old boy in the locker room shower of the football facility. Not only did this 27 year old do nothing to stop what was happening, he apparently had to call his dad to ask what to do next. Really? At 27, being a teacher and a mom, I am confident that I would have intervened, even if I needed a baseball bat, and I also would have called the police—that night.
Joe testified to the following in the grand jury testimony:
Joseph V. Paterno testified to receiving the graduate assistant’s report at his home on Saturday morning. Paterno testified that the graduate assistant was very upset. Paterno called Tim Curley (“Curley”), Penn State Athletic Director and Paterno’s immediate superior, to his home the very next day, a Sunday, and reported to him that the graduate assistant had seen Jerry Sandusky in the Lasch Building showers fondling or doing something of a sexual nature to a young boy.”
Something of a sexual nature? McQueary testified that he reported what he had seen to Paterno. Read the document to see exactly what McQueary saw. Here’s my next big question. Even if you only heard the words “sexual nature” and “young boy,” wouldn’t that be enough for you to immediately call your superior, not wait a day? And speaking of his superior, am I the only one who is a bit shocked that Joe had enough clout to make his superior come to him, not the other way around? I know I probably shouldn’t be shocked, but I have been out of Pennsylvania for over thirty years.
It was wrong and both of these men knew it was wrong. Yes, Joe notified the proper university officials, but did he ever ask a question about what they did about it. He apparently did not, because several years later, Mr. Sandusky was still recruiting for Penn State. In fact, reports indicate that Mr. Sandusky went on recruiting visits as recently as this past spring, during the grand jury investigation.
Another disturbing fact is that reports of sexual abuse surfaced long before this report by McQueary. According to MSNBC: “ … in 1998, Sandusky was investigated after he was accused of "behaving in a sexually inappropriate manner" with a boy in a shower at the football team's facilities, the grand jury said. The report said an attorney for Second Mile who was also university counsel, Wendell Courtney, was aware of the allegations.” The entire article can be found here. He was observed again in 2000, in the showers of a Penn State facility by a janitor. The janitor tells his immediate superior who advises him to file a report, but since the janitor was a temporary employee, it doesn’t get done. So, 2002 was not the first time that Penn State facilities were used by Mr. Sandusky to abuse young boys, nor was it the first time he was observed or investigated.
Sandusky is arrested on November 5, 2011. Joe makes a statement on Sunday, November 6, 2011, released by his son Scott in which he states: "If this is true we were all fooled ... we grieve for the victims and their families. They are in our prayers." Joe goes on to defend his actions in going to administrators and not following up. On Wednesday, the day after his press conference was cancelled, Paterno announces his retirement effective at the end of the season with this pre-emptive warning to the board. "At this moment the board of trustees should not spend a single minute discussing my status. They have far more important matters to address." (Atlanta Journal) Wednesday evening Joe Paterno is relieved of his position as head coach of the Penn State football program.
What occurs following this is what disturbs and grieves me most. The outrage displayed by the students, alumni and fans of Penn State for the firing of the legendary Paterno, far overshadows anyone’s grief for what has happened to the victims in this scandal. How and why do you side with a man who covered up the acts of a depraved person? The same man who was, until this past week, suggesting they allegations may not be true. Joe, you have at least one eye-witness on your staff and quite probably there are more who were afraid to speak up. Angry mobs overturning a mobile news van, blaming the media for Joe’s dismissal are the scenes displayed across the country and world-wide. When one Penn State grad stands outside the stadium bearing two signs that say, “Put abused kids first,” and Don’t be fooled, they all knew. Tom Bradley, everyone must go.” He is ridiculed, cursed, slapped, showered with beer and over the course of an hour, only one person stopped to agree with the man. (Washington Times article) While the fans inside the stadium seemed reticent and sad, outside the stadium people were still loudly protesting the firing of JoePA. I’ve heard of mob mentality before, even seen it first hand at anti Vietnam rallies while a college student, but I have never witnessed people so concerned with the future of a football program and the 60 year career of an 85 year old man who had clearly not done enough to protect these young victims. Several former players have been heard defending Coach Paterno's actions, saying he did what he had to do. Maybe as suggested in Micah 6:8, he should have done more.I sincerely hope that the board continues to clean house at Penn State. They did the right thing for the student body and the university. Not until the house is clean, can this football program move forward with the pride of Nittany Lions.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
I'm Back!
Who'd have thought I'd been gone from writing this long--certainly not me. Some family problems have filled my days and nights with worry and a little stress, but things are looking up and it is time to write again. That said, heat is on my mind.
I like heat...there's something to be said for spicy Mexican or Indian food, a hot cup of cocoa after a snowball fight, a steamy shower upon waking in the morning. However, I do not like endless days and nights of 90+ degree weather. Who wants to walk in 95 degrees? I long for breezy weather and cool mornings to walk. It also wouldn't hurt if when the sun set, the temperature fell to someplace in the sixties, with low humidity. I long for a lovely porch or patio to share the evening coolness with friends and family.
Such a place does exist, but it isn't here in Dallas. I am so ready to go home to Pennsylvania...where such things do exist. Yes, there are hot days, but a limited number. Yes there are snowy cold days, but that's when I'd enjoy a lovely fire with my feet up and a good book. I think the lure of retirement has me hooked. More to come as I begin planning my journey.
I like heat...there's something to be said for spicy Mexican or Indian food, a hot cup of cocoa after a snowball fight, a steamy shower upon waking in the morning. However, I do not like endless days and nights of 90+ degree weather. Who wants to walk in 95 degrees? I long for breezy weather and cool mornings to walk. It also wouldn't hurt if when the sun set, the temperature fell to someplace in the sixties, with low humidity. I long for a lovely porch or patio to share the evening coolness with friends and family.
Such a place does exist, but it isn't here in Dallas. I am so ready to go home to Pennsylvania...where such things do exist. Yes, there are hot days, but a limited number. Yes there are snowy cold days, but that's when I'd enjoy a lovely fire with my feet up and a good book. I think the lure of retirement has me hooked. More to come as I begin planning my journey.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Conquering Heroine?
Wow! One week, two days and the glucose meter is not looking like such a formidable machine any longer. After days of sticking with no results, I finally got all the bugs worked out and actually got a reading. If you've never used a meter before, there are a few things to consider. Don't think that intuition will guide you through. What you think will work doesn't. Follow the directions to the letter. My meter requires 1.0 micro-liters of blood, which I am happy to say the American Diabetes Association actually pictures. It is about the size of a the top of a straight pin, not the point. My first couple of attempts I tried to drop the blood onto the strip--no go. After coaxing the appropriate amount of blood to the surface, you bring the test strip to the blood and gently let it flow onto the strip. It's fun to watch actually. The channel fills quickly and in five seconds you have results. So simple, despite all my worries.
Now I just have to learn what it all means. I think I'll celebrate with a pedicure tomorrow!
Now I just have to learn what it all means. I think I'll celebrate with a pedicure tomorrow!
Friday, June 18, 2010
One Week In
It's been one week since my diagnosis of Type II diabetes. The week seem to drag by--probably because I am anticipating my vacation which starts next Friday. I am like a little kid waiting for Christmas morning. But not so fast...the drag could be due to the darn glucose meter. If you remember, that's the machine that causes me to prick my finger on more than one occasion during each day. I think I've finally gotten over the fear of the prick, but I was having real trouble managing the meter. My husband suggested I go back to the doctor's office, but I don't cave that easy. I finally went to the site of the company that makes the meter and all my questions were answered. Goodness, Gayle, what took you so long. My meter is a OneTouch Ultra 2 made by LifeScan. It really is easy to use and I have to say the prick isn't that bad.
The first week on Bob Greene's 1500 calorie diet for diabetics didn't go badly. For the first three or four days, I think I was too nervous to really care about eating, but my appetite seems to have returned today. I've always been very conscious about reading food packaging labels, but am even more so now. I am mostly looking for sodium, carbs and fiber content. I love salad, which is very good for me to eat--low cal, low carb, high fiber. I just hate making them and I refuse to buy salad in a bag-it just never tastes fresh enough to me. I have a salad spinner which really rinses and dries the lettuces very well. Using a variety of greens makes the salad interesting. I usually throw in some yellow or red pepper, cucumber, red onion,cherry tomatoes and sometimes either broccoli or cauliflower. Depending on my flavor moods, I add avocado, or Gorgonzola with roasted walnuts or pecans. Okay, now you see why I hate making salads--I am fussy and it is a lot of work, but oh so good. One of my favorite dressings from a bottle is Newman's low fat lime vinaigrette. It goes perfectly with the avocado.
The most upsetting part of my new eating plan is having to cut down on my favorite carbs. I am not a big sweet eater, so I don't really miss desserts. A bowl of fresh strawberries or blueberries fills that niche. I do miss my potatoes and my pasta. It is not that I can't eat them, it is the amount that I can eat. 1/3 of a cup of cooked whole wheat pasta does not take up much room on the plate. Nor does a third cup of brown rice or half a baked potato. I haven't had a chip of any kind since last Friday and may go into withdrawal since tortilla chips are probably my favorite snack. I've added a lot of seafood choices to my menu--even though I prepare for me only since Eric does not eat fish.
I've been walking--but not every day this week. Eric and I had some errands to run so I guess I could count walking through stores we visited. I did walk Monday and today, just around the neighborhood for about 20 minutes. I actually love to walk but here in Texas, even at 8:30, it is a chore. It was probably close to 90 degrees this morning.
Here's hoping I can keep this up on the road. I will keep posting from my vacation stops.
The first week on Bob Greene's 1500 calorie diet for diabetics didn't go badly. For the first three or four days, I think I was too nervous to really care about eating, but my appetite seems to have returned today. I've always been very conscious about reading food packaging labels, but am even more so now. I am mostly looking for sodium, carbs and fiber content. I love salad, which is very good for me to eat--low cal, low carb, high fiber. I just hate making them and I refuse to buy salad in a bag-it just never tastes fresh enough to me. I have a salad spinner which really rinses and dries the lettuces very well. Using a variety of greens makes the salad interesting. I usually throw in some yellow or red pepper, cucumber, red onion,cherry tomatoes and sometimes either broccoli or cauliflower. Depending on my flavor moods, I add avocado, or Gorgonzola with roasted walnuts or pecans. Okay, now you see why I hate making salads--I am fussy and it is a lot of work, but oh so good. One of my favorite dressings from a bottle is Newman's low fat lime vinaigrette. It goes perfectly with the avocado.
The most upsetting part of my new eating plan is having to cut down on my favorite carbs. I am not a big sweet eater, so I don't really miss desserts. A bowl of fresh strawberries or blueberries fills that niche. I do miss my potatoes and my pasta. It is not that I can't eat them, it is the amount that I can eat. 1/3 of a cup of cooked whole wheat pasta does not take up much room on the plate. Nor does a third cup of brown rice or half a baked potato. I haven't had a chip of any kind since last Friday and may go into withdrawal since tortilla chips are probably my favorite snack. I've added a lot of seafood choices to my menu--even though I prepare for me only since Eric does not eat fish.
I've been walking--but not every day this week. Eric and I had some errands to run so I guess I could count walking through stores we visited. I did walk Monday and today, just around the neighborhood for about 20 minutes. I actually love to walk but here in Texas, even at 8:30, it is a chore. It was probably close to 90 degrees this morning.
Here's hoping I can keep this up on the road. I will keep posting from my vacation stops.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Sweet Ride
Friday, June 11, 2010, is a day that will forever change me. My journey has become somewhat more complicated and I've spent the last 48 hours pondering how I will manage it. On Friday, I learned that I have Type II diabetes which brings with it the codependent issue of high blood pressure. I knew my sedentary lifestyle--thanks computer--would catch up with me. It has and now everything must change if I am to do well with controlling this illness. I've decided to write about it, describing the emotions and the physical implications.
Let's begin with the glucose monitor. You would think a woman with two masters degrees would have no trouble mastering the tiny meter. Three days later I am still learning the ropes. What's the big deal, shouldn't everyone love sticking themselves several times a day?
Taking two medications is freaking me out a bit. I don't like taking advil for a headache. About the only thing I have taken regularly over the last thirty years is a multi vitamnin. I am taking metformin, the generic form of glucophage. Its purpose is to lower my blood sugar--in conjunction, of course, with a proper diet and exercise. The other med is lisinopril for high blood pressure. So far neither medication is having an adverse effect, although I've found already if I don't eat enough before taking the metformin and then try to exercise I find myself lightheaded.
I am not having difficulty with the diet part. I understand I have to cut back on carbs, which is really okay with me--except for one thing. I like potatoes--any way, shape or form--so cutting them out or even cutting back is difficult. I love chicken, fish and seafood, so choosing them as a lower calorie protein is easy for me--so long as they hold out, considering the mess in the Gulf. That's a really sad state of affairs which I'll probably address in another blog. I also love low carb veggies like cauliflower, brussel sprouts and broccoli.
I've reinstated my walking routine, which was temporarily on hold due to my knee acting up. It's feeling better, so I am trying to get out before the Texas heat takes over. It was 80 degrees when I walked at 9 AM this morning. Waiting any later than that puts the whole plan into jeopardy--as I tend to wilt in the heat. Can't wait for those cool summer morning in Scranton or elsewhere in the northeast. Eric has talked me into going back to the weight machine, and I will do that in about 3-4 weeks. Our vacation is coming up and I can't see starting before we leave.
More to come...
Let's begin with the glucose monitor. You would think a woman with two masters degrees would have no trouble mastering the tiny meter. Three days later I am still learning the ropes. What's the big deal, shouldn't everyone love sticking themselves several times a day?
Taking two medications is freaking me out a bit. I don't like taking advil for a headache. About the only thing I have taken regularly over the last thirty years is a multi vitamnin. I am taking metformin, the generic form of glucophage. Its purpose is to lower my blood sugar--in conjunction, of course, with a proper diet and exercise. The other med is lisinopril for high blood pressure. So far neither medication is having an adverse effect, although I've found already if I don't eat enough before taking the metformin and then try to exercise I find myself lightheaded.
I am not having difficulty with the diet part. I understand I have to cut back on carbs, which is really okay with me--except for one thing. I like potatoes--any way, shape or form--so cutting them out or even cutting back is difficult. I love chicken, fish and seafood, so choosing them as a lower calorie protein is easy for me--so long as they hold out, considering the mess in the Gulf. That's a really sad state of affairs which I'll probably address in another blog. I also love low carb veggies like cauliflower, brussel sprouts and broccoli.
I've reinstated my walking routine, which was temporarily on hold due to my knee acting up. It's feeling better, so I am trying to get out before the Texas heat takes over. It was 80 degrees when I walked at 9 AM this morning. Waiting any later than that puts the whole plan into jeopardy--as I tend to wilt in the heat. Can't wait for those cool summer morning in Scranton or elsewhere in the northeast. Eric has talked me into going back to the weight machine, and I will do that in about 3-4 weeks. Our vacation is coming up and I can't see starting before we leave.
More to come...
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Thanks for the Memories
They called it the end of an era and perhaps it was. Texas stadium stood at the intersection of Loop 12, 183 and 114 for 39 years, welcoming players and fans to the Sunday excitement that was a Cowboy’s game.
Some of my friends remember it being built. Not me. My very first recollection of the famous icon was from the opening credits of the hit series Dallas. You see, back in the early days of my marriage and my growing family, football was not a big part of my life, and when I had the time, I was watching the Steelers, the Eagles or the Giants, not the Cowboys. Who would have believed then that someday, going to Texas stadium would become a Sunday ritual?
When we arrived in north Texas in January of 1991, it was hard to absorb the fervent fever that permeated the very air here. I’d lived in Baltimore and in Cleveland, but never remembered the fan base being as loyal as here. Cowboy shirts were everywhere and the people wearing them would not hear a disparaging word about their ‘boys.
My first trip to the stadium came as the preseason of 1991 began. My daughter played in the band at R. L. Turner High School in Carrollton, Texas. The band boosters made the majority of their fund-raising money by running a concession stand at the stadium. Every Sunday for the next three years, I would spend hours before and after the game preparing and cleaning up the stand. But the hours during the game were the most special, when what seemed like millions of people passed by or stood in line waiting for a hot dog or nachos and a drink. I learned to be quick to provide service and give change—and no—there was no big register that told me how much to give. If you hesitated even a little, some fan might get angry about missing even a minute of action on the field. I loved the hustle bustle, the lines, the crowds, the excitement. The only thing I didn’t miss when my time there ended was the intense August and September heat that often raised the temperature in the stand well above 100 degrees.
When the demand for hot dogs went down at the stand you knew something exciting was happening on the field. One at a time, some of us would sneak away to a gate, to stand and watch a great play and sometimes a touchdown by the Cowboys. In 1993, I jumped at the chance to work all three of the Garth Brooks concerts. Again the stadium was packed to the roof with excited fans. What a stage show, complete with thunder, lightning and rain, courtesy of Garth’s concert tour! I managed to sneak a few moments watching the concert and even though Garth appeared to be not much larger than child’s action figure, it was a great moment.
In the fall of 1993, my former husband and I became owners of season tickets. He and I attended quite a few games and when I let my daughter or son attend instead, you’d find me back in the concession stand, serving up dogs and counting out change at something close to the speed of light. The Thanksgiving Day game on November 25, 1993, was perhaps my most memorable. My husband decided to forgo the game tickets that day, when we awoke to find the weather miserable and predicted to be worse. I would have liked to stay home that day too, but the Band boosters were desperate as so many people bailed that day. So off I went for a 3:30 game start. Of course that meant I had to be in the stadium two hours before they opened the gates to fans, which was 11:30 for a 3:30 game. Things didn’t look bad when I got on the road but oh how that would change during the course of the day. When the fans started exiting the stadium around 6:30 that evening, I still had an hour or more of work to complete before I could leave. I got to my car around 8 PM, and finally got home about 10 PM, even though I only lived about 16 miles away. And what a drive that was! Some of you may also remember that this was the game in which Leon Lett made the blunder of his career. His touching the ball and failure to hold on to it in the icy conditions allowed the Dolphins another chance at their field goal, which they made, beating the Cowboys 16-14.
In January of 1993, the Cowboys ended up in Pasadena for the Superbowl. My husband was lucky enough to get tickets and he and my son, Evan, spent a few memorable days in California, which included watching the Cowboys win and Michael Jackson perform.
Even more memorable for my son was being in the old OTB on Beltline in Addison on January 7, 1994, when Jimmy Johnson, Norv Turner and Dave Wannstedt who were also at the bar, signed autographs for my son and daughter. I like to say that was the day that Jimmy bought me a drink for my birthday—sometimes I leave out the fact that he bought drinks for everyone in the restaurant that night. Of course, it wasn’t long after that night that Jimmy Johnson resigned and Norv and Dave left Dallas for careers with other teams.
For me, that was the end of the era. My husband had no desire to return to the stadium as season ticket holders with Johnson gone. My marriage ended that same year and my daughter graduated from high school and while I worked a few more Cowboys games for the band boosters in 94, it wasn’t the same. The memories were bittersweet, as they were today when I watched Texas Stadium collapse on cue. I wonder what the drive to work will be like on Monday morning as drivers slow to take a last look at the rubble that was once such a famous icon.
Some of my friends remember it being built. Not me. My very first recollection of the famous icon was from the opening credits of the hit series Dallas. You see, back in the early days of my marriage and my growing family, football was not a big part of my life, and when I had the time, I was watching the Steelers, the Eagles or the Giants, not the Cowboys. Who would have believed then that someday, going to Texas stadium would become a Sunday ritual?
When we arrived in north Texas in January of 1991, it was hard to absorb the fervent fever that permeated the very air here. I’d lived in Baltimore and in Cleveland, but never remembered the fan base being as loyal as here. Cowboy shirts were everywhere and the people wearing them would not hear a disparaging word about their ‘boys.
My first trip to the stadium came as the preseason of 1991 began. My daughter played in the band at R. L. Turner High School in Carrollton, Texas. The band boosters made the majority of their fund-raising money by running a concession stand at the stadium. Every Sunday for the next three years, I would spend hours before and after the game preparing and cleaning up the stand. But the hours during the game were the most special, when what seemed like millions of people passed by or stood in line waiting for a hot dog or nachos and a drink. I learned to be quick to provide service and give change—and no—there was no big register that told me how much to give. If you hesitated even a little, some fan might get angry about missing even a minute of action on the field. I loved the hustle bustle, the lines, the crowds, the excitement. The only thing I didn’t miss when my time there ended was the intense August and September heat that often raised the temperature in the stand well above 100 degrees.
When the demand for hot dogs went down at the stand you knew something exciting was happening on the field. One at a time, some of us would sneak away to a gate, to stand and watch a great play and sometimes a touchdown by the Cowboys. In 1993, I jumped at the chance to work all three of the Garth Brooks concerts. Again the stadium was packed to the roof with excited fans. What a stage show, complete with thunder, lightning and rain, courtesy of Garth’s concert tour! I managed to sneak a few moments watching the concert and even though Garth appeared to be not much larger than child’s action figure, it was a great moment.
In the fall of 1993, my former husband and I became owners of season tickets. He and I attended quite a few games and when I let my daughter or son attend instead, you’d find me back in the concession stand, serving up dogs and counting out change at something close to the speed of light. The Thanksgiving Day game on November 25, 1993, was perhaps my most memorable. My husband decided to forgo the game tickets that day, when we awoke to find the weather miserable and predicted to be worse. I would have liked to stay home that day too, but the Band boosters were desperate as so many people bailed that day. So off I went for a 3:30 game start. Of course that meant I had to be in the stadium two hours before they opened the gates to fans, which was 11:30 for a 3:30 game. Things didn’t look bad when I got on the road but oh how that would change during the course of the day. When the fans started exiting the stadium around 6:30 that evening, I still had an hour or more of work to complete before I could leave. I got to my car around 8 PM, and finally got home about 10 PM, even though I only lived about 16 miles away. And what a drive that was! Some of you may also remember that this was the game in which Leon Lett made the blunder of his career. His touching the ball and failure to hold on to it in the icy conditions allowed the Dolphins another chance at their field goal, which they made, beating the Cowboys 16-14.
In January of 1993, the Cowboys ended up in Pasadena for the Superbowl. My husband was lucky enough to get tickets and he and my son, Evan, spent a few memorable days in California, which included watching the Cowboys win and Michael Jackson perform.
Even more memorable for my son was being in the old OTB on Beltline in Addison on January 7, 1994, when Jimmy Johnson, Norv Turner and Dave Wannstedt who were also at the bar, signed autographs for my son and daughter. I like to say that was the day that Jimmy bought me a drink for my birthday—sometimes I leave out the fact that he bought drinks for everyone in the restaurant that night. Of course, it wasn’t long after that night that Jimmy Johnson resigned and Norv and Dave left Dallas for careers with other teams.
For me, that was the end of the era. My husband had no desire to return to the stadium as season ticket holders with Johnson gone. My marriage ended that same year and my daughter graduated from high school and while I worked a few more Cowboys games for the band boosters in 94, it wasn’t the same. The memories were bittersweet, as they were today when I watched Texas Stadium collapse on cue. I wonder what the drive to work will be like on Monday morning as drivers slow to take a last look at the rubble that was once such a famous icon.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
For all the Saints...
What a game, what a victory! It was amazing to watch and I am so proud of Jahri Evans and all the Saints. You deserve this win for great play and great coaching! I hate to wish my life away, but I can't wait for football season to begin again!
Friday, February 5, 2010
Super, Super Bowl
I can not say that I've watched every Superbowl since January of 1967, although I certainly could have. Some teams interest me a lot more than others. Who you watch the games with makes all the difference in the world. I am married to a sports fanatic and have been for the last 12.5 years. Football is one of his passions, so its fun to watch with him and discuss the game.
This year's game, XLIV, is particularly exciting for several reasons. First, the New Orleans Saints have been in existence for the same number of years as the Super Bowl itself. This is the first time the Saints have made conference champs and the Super Bowl. One Saints player grabs my attention. He's not the quarterback nor a running back nor a receiver. Jahri Evans is an offensive lineman that came to the NFL by way of a Division II school which just happens to be my alma mater. I've been following Bloomsburg Husky football for a number of years and have been known to drive or fly long distances to attend a game. You see, I live in Texas and my alma mater is in central Pennsylvania. When I can't be at a game, I am sitting in front of my computer listening to the Internet radio broadcast of the game, following players, charting wins and losses and predicting who will make it to Division II playoffs. Bloomsburg, which fields a team with the equivalency of about 11 scholarships, consistently makes the playoffs and in fact has been the team of the decade in terms of wins in the PSAC. That's due in large part to the coach, Danny Hale. In addition to coaching winning football players, he produces young men who are strong students, community volunteers and college graduates. Jahri is just one of those young men, who entered Bloom on an academic scholarship, excelled at football, graduated with a degree in sports medicine/exercise science and now gives back to Bloomsburg with a scholarship program and as a member of the Golden Helmet Alliance.
Most of the prognosticators have been picking the Colts to win this game. Frankly, I can't support the Colts, even with Peyton Manning as quarterback. Unfortunately, as a former Baltimore Colt fan and Maryland resident I have strong memories of the night in 1983, when the Irsay family moved the Colts out of Baltimore in the middle of the night. There was plenty of blame on both sides for that move, but the bottom line is that I don't and won't support the Indianapolis Colts. Perhaps if they had changed the name of the team to something more reflective of Indianapolis--a car name would be more appropriate considering what makes Indianapolis famous. The Colts belonged to Baltimore, home of the Preakness, and to Maryland, where Harford County is known for its thoroughbred horse farms.
That said, I am going with the Saints to win this game. Their unflappable spirit, their fabulous coach, their reborn quarterback, and best lineman in the NFL, Jahri Evans #73, all will be strong forces that lead the Saints to victory.
This year's game, XLIV, is particularly exciting for several reasons. First, the New Orleans Saints have been in existence for the same number of years as the Super Bowl itself. This is the first time the Saints have made conference champs and the Super Bowl. One Saints player grabs my attention. He's not the quarterback nor a running back nor a receiver. Jahri Evans is an offensive lineman that came to the NFL by way of a Division II school which just happens to be my alma mater. I've been following Bloomsburg Husky football for a number of years and have been known to drive or fly long distances to attend a game. You see, I live in Texas and my alma mater is in central Pennsylvania. When I can't be at a game, I am sitting in front of my computer listening to the Internet radio broadcast of the game, following players, charting wins and losses and predicting who will make it to Division II playoffs. Bloomsburg, which fields a team with the equivalency of about 11 scholarships, consistently makes the playoffs and in fact has been the team of the decade in terms of wins in the PSAC. That's due in large part to the coach, Danny Hale. In addition to coaching winning football players, he produces young men who are strong students, community volunteers and college graduates. Jahri is just one of those young men, who entered Bloom on an academic scholarship, excelled at football, graduated with a degree in sports medicine/exercise science and now gives back to Bloomsburg with a scholarship program and as a member of the Golden Helmet Alliance.
Most of the prognosticators have been picking the Colts to win this game. Frankly, I can't support the Colts, even with Peyton Manning as quarterback. Unfortunately, as a former Baltimore Colt fan and Maryland resident I have strong memories of the night in 1983, when the Irsay family moved the Colts out of Baltimore in the middle of the night. There was plenty of blame on both sides for that move, but the bottom line is that I don't and won't support the Indianapolis Colts. Perhaps if they had changed the name of the team to something more reflective of Indianapolis--a car name would be more appropriate considering what makes Indianapolis famous. The Colts belonged to Baltimore, home of the Preakness, and to Maryland, where Harford County is known for its thoroughbred horse farms.
That said, I am going with the Saints to win this game. Their unflappable spirit, their fabulous coach, their reborn quarterback, and best lineman in the NFL, Jahri Evans #73, all will be strong forces that lead the Saints to victory.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Pen vs sword, Part II
Today I read an editorial from the January 21, New York times. Seems the writer shares my feelings about this being one of the most damaging rulings ever to the face of American democracy. A small quote from that editorial:
This issue should never have been before the court. The justices overreached and seized on a case involving a narrower, technical question involving the broadcast of a movie that attacked Hillary Rodham Clinton during the 2008 campaign. The court elevated that case to a forum for striking down the entire ban on corporate spending and then rushed the process of hearing the case at breakneck speed. It gave lawyers a month to prepare briefs on an issue of enormous complexity, and it scheduled arguments during its vacation.
If that paragraph doesn't strike fear in your heart, try this one on for size:
The majority also makes the nonsensical claim that, unlike campaign contributions, which are still prohibited, independent expenditures by corporations “do not give rise to corruption or the appearance of corruption.” If Wall Street bankers told members of Congress that they would spend millions of dollars to defeat anyone who opposed their bailout, and then did so, it would certainly look corrupt.
Corporate contributions to advertising in the media--in any of it's multitude of forms--will control elections, plain and simple. If pharmaceutical companies want a particular candidate elected--they most certainly have the financial wherewithal to make that happen.
And try this final quote on for size--most particularly if you are a liberal thinker, since as long as this ruling stands there will be very few liberal or even middle of the road thinkers left in office.
In dissent, Justice John Paul Stevens warned that the ruling not only threatens democracy but “will, I fear, do damage to this institution.” History is, indeed, likely to look harshly not only on the decision but the court that delivered it. The Citizens United ruling is likely to be viewed as a shameful bookend to Bush v. Gore. With one 5-to-4 decision, the court’s conservative majority stopped valid votes from being counted to ensure the election of a conservative president. Now a similar conservative majority has distorted the political system to ensure that Republican candidates will be at an enormous advantage in future elections.
None of us will benefit from a one party system--which this ruling was designed to create. Oil companies, insurance companies, pharmaceutical companies should not be running this country--they should not have Congress in their proverbial pockets--but this ruling promotes that. I agree with the president when he says that these powerful corporations will drown out the voices of ordinary Americans. Every single American who has ever voted in an election should be writing their Congressman to make changes in laws to prevent this. This ruling has nothing to do with free speech and everything to do with politcal corruption.
This issue should never have been before the court. The justices overreached and seized on a case involving a narrower, technical question involving the broadcast of a movie that attacked Hillary Rodham Clinton during the 2008 campaign. The court elevated that case to a forum for striking down the entire ban on corporate spending and then rushed the process of hearing the case at breakneck speed. It gave lawyers a month to prepare briefs on an issue of enormous complexity, and it scheduled arguments during its vacation.
If that paragraph doesn't strike fear in your heart, try this one on for size:
The majority also makes the nonsensical claim that, unlike campaign contributions, which are still prohibited, independent expenditures by corporations “do not give rise to corruption or the appearance of corruption.” If Wall Street bankers told members of Congress that they would spend millions of dollars to defeat anyone who opposed their bailout, and then did so, it would certainly look corrupt.
Corporate contributions to advertising in the media--in any of it's multitude of forms--will control elections, plain and simple. If pharmaceutical companies want a particular candidate elected--they most certainly have the financial wherewithal to make that happen.
And try this final quote on for size--most particularly if you are a liberal thinker, since as long as this ruling stands there will be very few liberal or even middle of the road thinkers left in office.
In dissent, Justice John Paul Stevens warned that the ruling not only threatens democracy but “will, I fear, do damage to this institution.” History is, indeed, likely to look harshly not only on the decision but the court that delivered it. The Citizens United ruling is likely to be viewed as a shameful bookend to Bush v. Gore. With one 5-to-4 decision, the court’s conservative majority stopped valid votes from being counted to ensure the election of a conservative president. Now a similar conservative majority has distorted the political system to ensure that Republican candidates will be at an enormous advantage in future elections.
None of us will benefit from a one party system--which this ruling was designed to create. Oil companies, insurance companies, pharmaceutical companies should not be running this country--they should not have Congress in their proverbial pockets--but this ruling promotes that. I agree with the president when he says that these powerful corporations will drown out the voices of ordinary Americans. Every single American who has ever voted in an election should be writing their Congressman to make changes in laws to prevent this. This ruling has nothing to do with free speech and everything to do with politcal corruption.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
The Pen: mightier than the sword?
The pen is mightier than the sword. What wisdom in that statement. In a bloodless coup, the US Supreme Court, or should I say the five most conservative justices, all nominated by Republican presidents, have just changed the face of American elections, local and national. Now any corporation with enough money can influence the outcome of an election by dumping an unlimited amount of funds into media blitzes for the candidates of their choice. If you are reading this and have even a modicum of intelligence you know which candidates those will be.
While the contribution limits to federal campaigns remains in tact, any corporation with money can run any type of ad to persuade the general public to vote their way. How many of those ads will be imbued with integrity or veracity? As it is now, local and national news entities hustle to provide fact checks for the unlimited drivel that spews in campaign advertisements.
Where are the likes of Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, who in one of his most quoted decisions, restricted free speech when it interfered with the efforts of the US government to recruit soldiers during wartime? How will the content of ads be controlled? Who will do the fact checking? A recent conservative presidential adviser embodied the adage of “tell a lie often enough and people will believe it.” Most people do not check the “facts.” I know this to be true by the excessive number of shady, dishonest and hurtful political forwards I receive. “Pass it on” is the motto of the email forwarder. If it’s on the Internet, it must be true, right? How many conservative, business friendly candidates will be elected before our system is one party only?
I believe this decision by the high court will insure an overrun of Republican candidates who walk into office, propelled by the ever present media blitzes paid for by corporate entities who will directly benefit from their election. Is that freedom of speech or electoral manipulation?
While the contribution limits to federal campaigns remains in tact, any corporation with money can run any type of ad to persuade the general public to vote their way. How many of those ads will be imbued with integrity or veracity? As it is now, local and national news entities hustle to provide fact checks for the unlimited drivel that spews in campaign advertisements.
Where are the likes of Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, who in one of his most quoted decisions, restricted free speech when it interfered with the efforts of the US government to recruit soldiers during wartime? How will the content of ads be controlled? Who will do the fact checking? A recent conservative presidential adviser embodied the adage of “tell a lie often enough and people will believe it.” Most people do not check the “facts.” I know this to be true by the excessive number of shady, dishonest and hurtful political forwards I receive. “Pass it on” is the motto of the email forwarder. If it’s on the Internet, it must be true, right? How many conservative, business friendly candidates will be elected before our system is one party only?
I believe this decision by the high court will insure an overrun of Republican candidates who walk into office, propelled by the ever present media blitzes paid for by corporate entities who will directly benefit from their election. Is that freedom of speech or electoral manipulation?
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
What is a hero?
Recently a teacher lamented the fact that we had no space-age “hero” biographies in our library. Upon searching the shelves I discovered that indeed, she was right. I had no books about astronauts or modern research scientists. It is only our second year in existence and building a solid, balanced collection takes at least five years. Needless to say I went straight to my order list and added a few books to my biography collection.
The whole question made me ponder the idea of a hero. How do we define it? Who qualifies as a hero? I tend to agree with the teacher’s judgment that pop singers and sports figures should not fall into the category of heroes—at least not for what they do on the stage or on the field. Some of them, however, strive to spend the fortunes they acquire through fame to better the lives of others. Does that not make them heroes? It certainly does to the people they help.
Webster online defines a hero as : a mythological or legendary figure often of divine descent endowed with great strength or ability; an illustrious warrior; a man admired for his achievements and noble qualities; one that shows great courage. Webster does not seem to apply the word hero to women. Apparently if I want to consider a female for the role, I’ll have to find the definition of heroine. Ah, but I digress. Second meaning is from literature: : the principal male character in a literary or dramatic work. The third definition refers to that rather large sandwich that we can purchase at any number of popular alternative fast food restaurants. The fourth, however, throws a monkey wrench in the lofty classification of hero: an object of extreme admiration and devotion : idol. Apparently even Webster is reduced to including any number of pop and sports icons in the category of hero.
No where in any of these definitions did it mention scholarly knowledge, volunteer service, living an admirable, worthwhile life. That’s so sad. Who should today’s hero’s be? Those who can catch a football and run 80 yards down the field to the end zone, behind countless blocks of their teammates. Or perhaps those whose doubtful voice, but awesome good looks, propel them to a lifetime of stage appearances before screaming fans.
At reference.com, I learned that Mikhail Kalashnikov was recently named a Hero of Russia. In case the name is unfamiliar to you, he invented the AK-47 assault rifle, referred to around the globe as “the world’s most lethal weapon.” President Dmitry Medvedev praised him for creating “the brand that every Russian is proud of.” Yikes! I understand guns. We have them in our house. My husband is a member of the NRA. But what purpose does this gun serve except to kill or maim, rapidly and without discretion?
Can we say that your perspective determines who the heroes are, that standards do not apply? In that case, let me tell you about my heroes. Bill and Betty were ordinary people. Nothing in their lives made them famous. Neither had more than a high school education. What elevates them to the lofty status of hero is how they lived their lives. Betty was kind and generous. No one spent a holiday alone if Betty knew them. She gave countless hours to her church, preparing meals, cleaning, serving, singing. She worked full time, but yet kept her house immaculate, enjoyed her family and friends and loved her husband more than anything. In her final months on earth, she thought not of herself but of those she would leave behind and how her passing might affect them. Bill was also a generous man. If you needed help, he was there. He supported his wife and family, did countless jobs around the house and was an interested and attentive parent. He believed in old fashioned work ethic and rarely missed a day of work for all his life. He was a parent who showed up at class performances, and PTA meetings. He served as a church trustee and led committees in planning church events. He did the "behind the scenes work" and let other people take the credit. Bill and Betty were true heroes, whose lives I try to emulate every day. You see, they were my parents and everything I know about life, I learned at their knee. I only hope that every day, I offer the same guidance and commitment to my own children and grandchild. I pray that I remember daily to show the love and patience that was shown to me.
I miss you Mom and Dad. I will always miss you.
The whole question made me ponder the idea of a hero. How do we define it? Who qualifies as a hero? I tend to agree with the teacher’s judgment that pop singers and sports figures should not fall into the category of heroes—at least not for what they do on the stage or on the field. Some of them, however, strive to spend the fortunes they acquire through fame to better the lives of others. Does that not make them heroes? It certainly does to the people they help.
Webster online defines a hero as : a mythological or legendary figure often of divine descent endowed with great strength or ability; an illustrious warrior; a man admired for his achievements and noble qualities; one that shows great courage. Webster does not seem to apply the word hero to women. Apparently if I want to consider a female for the role, I’ll have to find the definition of heroine. Ah, but I digress. Second meaning is from literature: : the principal male character in a literary or dramatic work. The third definition refers to that rather large sandwich that we can purchase at any number of popular alternative fast food restaurants. The fourth, however, throws a monkey wrench in the lofty classification of hero: an object of extreme admiration and devotion : idol. Apparently even Webster is reduced to including any number of pop and sports icons in the category of hero.
No where in any of these definitions did it mention scholarly knowledge, volunteer service, living an admirable, worthwhile life. That’s so sad. Who should today’s hero’s be? Those who can catch a football and run 80 yards down the field to the end zone, behind countless blocks of their teammates. Or perhaps those whose doubtful voice, but awesome good looks, propel them to a lifetime of stage appearances before screaming fans.
At reference.com, I learned that Mikhail Kalashnikov was recently named a Hero of Russia. In case the name is unfamiliar to you, he invented the AK-47 assault rifle, referred to around the globe as “the world’s most lethal weapon.” President Dmitry Medvedev praised him for creating “the brand that every Russian is proud of.” Yikes! I understand guns. We have them in our house. My husband is a member of the NRA. But what purpose does this gun serve except to kill or maim, rapidly and without discretion?
Can we say that your perspective determines who the heroes are, that standards do not apply? In that case, let me tell you about my heroes. Bill and Betty were ordinary people. Nothing in their lives made them famous. Neither had more than a high school education. What elevates them to the lofty status of hero is how they lived their lives. Betty was kind and generous. No one spent a holiday alone if Betty knew them. She gave countless hours to her church, preparing meals, cleaning, serving, singing. She worked full time, but yet kept her house immaculate, enjoyed her family and friends and loved her husband more than anything. In her final months on earth, she thought not of herself but of those she would leave behind and how her passing might affect them. Bill was also a generous man. If you needed help, he was there. He supported his wife and family, did countless jobs around the house and was an interested and attentive parent. He believed in old fashioned work ethic and rarely missed a day of work for all his life. He was a parent who showed up at class performances, and PTA meetings. He served as a church trustee and led committees in planning church events. He did the "behind the scenes work" and let other people take the credit. Bill and Betty were true heroes, whose lives I try to emulate every day. You see, they were my parents and everything I know about life, I learned at their knee. I only hope that every day, I offer the same guidance and commitment to my own children and grandchild. I pray that I remember daily to show the love and patience that was shown to me.
I miss you Mom and Dad. I will always miss you.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Random Rants and Raves
My daughter has suffered some serious health issues lately. We are not talking allergies, colds or a sore throat here. Her symptoms include a rapid heart rate, edema, bruising, serious headaches, neck pain, and a straight line rash that erupts with an itching and burning and lasts about three to five days, painful the whole time. She's been to several doctors, including two gps and a cardiologist, whose idea of handling the situation was to throw pills at her--no attempt to find a diagnosis.
Further complicating the whole mess is the fact that without a diagnosis, her employer is being very uncooperative about her missing work for appointments and procedures. Talk about your vicious circle--you must not really be sick because there is no name for what you have. You can't take anymore time off. I understand you have two medical appointments, one a seriously long procedure, but can't you come to work in between those?
As her mother, I have been very concerned about the lack of diagnosis. Seems to me in our age of technology, that diagnosing my 33 year old daughter can't be that difficult. Really folks, we can put billions of bits of information in a thumb drive--literally no bigger than my thumb.
Being the librarian I am, I conducted some Internet research. I was alarmed at the illnesses in which her symptoms were manifested. Major organ involvement permeated the list and my alarm grew. Thankfully a few months back, Leigh had found a really good, thorough GP. She wasn't using him on a regular basis, because of his office hours--that's a whole other story, the lack of physicians offering office hours that are convenient to people who work 9-5. Instead, she was seeing a doctor who had late afternoon and evening appointments that she could go to after work. She finally broke down and took time from work to go see Dr. X. After running a series of tests, including taking enough blood to feed a vampire family for a week, yesterday she received some good news. She has two viruses, Epstein Barr Virus and cytomegalovirus.
What's that, you ask? Technically, the viruses are related. The latter produces the common cold sore, but sometimes can produce the same or similar sypmtoms as EBV, which is the mononucleosis virus. Yes, it is good news, because now we can at least put a label on how she feels. The list of symptoms is long, but includes every symptom she has, even though the doctor is not yet convinced that other things aren't going on.
She knows what she has now, but my work has just begun. I need to convince her that certain things need to happen if she's going to feel better. That's not an easy job because she is just as stubborn about things as I am.One of the first things I suggested is that she taking short walks in the evening to help her sleep. How could I have predicted that last night, she would take my advice and stroll outside our house between 9:30 and 10 PM? Not far mind you, but she had her cell phone in hand, trying to reach a few friends. She was right across the street from our home with her cell phone to her ear when a car drove up the street, slowed down, at which time someone inside pelted her with a frozen egg. It hit her in the rib cage with the force of a baseball. By the time she reached the front door, she was crying from the pain of being hit. I immediately called 911. After all, this was assault! About 30 minutes later, a police car pulled into our driveway. I was grateful they came although by that time there was probably little hope of them catching the culprits. They did mention they had several calls about the same car pelting eggs all over south Irving. I am appalled that none of these kids came to the realization that these eggs could hurt someone. That was indicated by the laughter as they sped away! Today, my daughter is bruised and extremely sore thanks to a careless prank. Should the police locate these young men, my suggestion would be they suffer the same fate as my daughter. This could work particularly well for her. There will be the therapeutic action of exacting justice, while showing off her wicked throw developed after years of playing softball. Using pin-point accuracy, I am sure she could place a few frozen eggs on well chosen targets!
Further complicating the whole mess is the fact that without a diagnosis, her employer is being very uncooperative about her missing work for appointments and procedures. Talk about your vicious circle--you must not really be sick because there is no name for what you have. You can't take anymore time off. I understand you have two medical appointments, one a seriously long procedure, but can't you come to work in between those?
As her mother, I have been very concerned about the lack of diagnosis. Seems to me in our age of technology, that diagnosing my 33 year old daughter can't be that difficult. Really folks, we can put billions of bits of information in a thumb drive--literally no bigger than my thumb.
Being the librarian I am, I conducted some Internet research. I was alarmed at the illnesses in which her symptoms were manifested. Major organ involvement permeated the list and my alarm grew. Thankfully a few months back, Leigh had found a really good, thorough GP. She wasn't using him on a regular basis, because of his office hours--that's a whole other story, the lack of physicians offering office hours that are convenient to people who work 9-5. Instead, she was seeing a doctor who had late afternoon and evening appointments that she could go to after work. She finally broke down and took time from work to go see Dr. X. After running a series of tests, including taking enough blood to feed a vampire family for a week, yesterday she received some good news. She has two viruses, Epstein Barr Virus and cytomegalovirus.
What's that, you ask? Technically, the viruses are related. The latter produces the common cold sore, but sometimes can produce the same or similar sypmtoms as EBV, which is the mononucleosis virus. Yes, it is good news, because now we can at least put a label on how she feels. The list of symptoms is long, but includes every symptom she has, even though the doctor is not yet convinced that other things aren't going on.
She knows what she has now, but my work has just begun. I need to convince her that certain things need to happen if she's going to feel better. That's not an easy job because she is just as stubborn about things as I am.One of the first things I suggested is that she taking short walks in the evening to help her sleep. How could I have predicted that last night, she would take my advice and stroll outside our house between 9:30 and 10 PM? Not far mind you, but she had her cell phone in hand, trying to reach a few friends. She was right across the street from our home with her cell phone to her ear when a car drove up the street, slowed down, at which time someone inside pelted her with a frozen egg. It hit her in the rib cage with the force of a baseball. By the time she reached the front door, she was crying from the pain of being hit. I immediately called 911. After all, this was assault! About 30 minutes later, a police car pulled into our driveway. I was grateful they came although by that time there was probably little hope of them catching the culprits. They did mention they had several calls about the same car pelting eggs all over south Irving. I am appalled that none of these kids came to the realization that these eggs could hurt someone. That was indicated by the laughter as they sped away! Today, my daughter is bruised and extremely sore thanks to a careless prank. Should the police locate these young men, my suggestion would be they suffer the same fate as my daughter. This could work particularly well for her. There will be the therapeutic action of exacting justice, while showing off her wicked throw developed after years of playing softball. Using pin-point accuracy, I am sure she could place a few frozen eggs on well chosen targets!
Sunday, July 26, 2009
My Reading Origins
At the top of the stairs and down the hall, was the front bedroom of my grandparent’s house. I can still close my eyes and see every corner of the room, from its castle like turret of windows to the mahogany sleigh bed. When I was four, I visited this room every single day, because this is where my grandmother spent her time. Propped up on pillows in this huge sleigh bed, because bone cancer had made it impossible for her to walk more than a few steps, she beckoned me to join her atop this magnificent bed to hear the story of Peter Rabbit. She knew Peter intimately, as she was in his original audience, the generation of children for whom the stories were written.
Oh, how she could tell this story. She could tell me all of Beatrix Potter’s stories, but she had long ago stopped trying to interest me in Benjamin Bunny or Jemima Puddle Duck because she knew what I really wanted to hear was Peter’s adventure in Mr. MacGregor’s garden. I had to hear every last detail, from that bunny mother who went off to shop and left all her children on their own, to Peter, who while enjoying the buffet of veggies in MacGregor’s garden was discovered by the angry farmer who chased him with a hoe. Along the way, Peter lost his very handsome bunny suit, ending up in the pail of water, chilled and frightened. I loved Peter and his exploits. To me, Peter was a risk taker, a daring, charming, young rabbit, who did things on impulse and didn’t always listen to his mother. Being the very good girl, who always listened to her mother, I revered vicariously, his mischievous deeds. I cheered as he ran lickety split across the garden and squirmed under the gate with the help of his bird friends. I’d let out a little cry when his mother would put him to bed without supper.
We’d talk and giggle about Peter and his antics and then my grandma Jenny would shuffle a few feet to the card table set up in front of the biggest window. There we’d enjoy tea, cucumber and watercress sandwiches, served by my Aunt May in her crisply starched white apron, and imagine that Ms. Potter had come to tea to talk about naughty Peter and her other characters. Those days were glorious and emblazoned in my memory banks.
In the months leading to her death in July of 1955, my grandmother sent my aunt on a quest, to find me my own copy of this book so I could forever remember the story and our days of sharing it. Those magical days made me a reader. They led to days of independent reading through the shelves of my neighborhood library. Those wonderful, happy days of childhood, when my dear grandmother took the time to introduce me to stories and books, produced a librarian and teacher who loves introducing children to books.
Oh, how she could tell this story. She could tell me all of Beatrix Potter’s stories, but she had long ago stopped trying to interest me in Benjamin Bunny or Jemima Puddle Duck because she knew what I really wanted to hear was Peter’s adventure in Mr. MacGregor’s garden. I had to hear every last detail, from that bunny mother who went off to shop and left all her children on their own, to Peter, who while enjoying the buffet of veggies in MacGregor’s garden was discovered by the angry farmer who chased him with a hoe. Along the way, Peter lost his very handsome bunny suit, ending up in the pail of water, chilled and frightened. I loved Peter and his exploits. To me, Peter was a risk taker, a daring, charming, young rabbit, who did things on impulse and didn’t always listen to his mother. Being the very good girl, who always listened to her mother, I revered vicariously, his mischievous deeds. I cheered as he ran lickety split across the garden and squirmed under the gate with the help of his bird friends. I’d let out a little cry when his mother would put him to bed without supper.
We’d talk and giggle about Peter and his antics and then my grandma Jenny would shuffle a few feet to the card table set up in front of the biggest window. There we’d enjoy tea, cucumber and watercress sandwiches, served by my Aunt May in her crisply starched white apron, and imagine that Ms. Potter had come to tea to talk about naughty Peter and her other characters. Those days were glorious and emblazoned in my memory banks.
In the months leading to her death in July of 1955, my grandmother sent my aunt on a quest, to find me my own copy of this book so I could forever remember the story and our days of sharing it. Those magical days made me a reader. They led to days of independent reading through the shelves of my neighborhood library. Those wonderful, happy days of childhood, when my dear grandmother took the time to introduce me to stories and books, produced a librarian and teacher who loves introducing children to books.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Gone Too Soon
I spent the afternoon watching the memorial service for Michael Jackson. It was a celebration of his life and thousands waited in line to find their place at this moment in history. Millions more were glued to their televisions as friends performed his music, unfolded favorite memories and inspired all of us to remember the best of what was the phenomenon known as Michael Jackson. Personally, I was touched by the poem from Maya Angelou. Later in the afternoon, while looking for the poem online I ran into a hateful blog by Dallas Morning News columnist, Ron Dreher, that demonized Michael and everything that occurred at this event. I had to ask why--in his comment section--not once but twice. I was irritated and annoyed that he wrote this column as a right wing Conservative Christian and he and his blog followers made comments that vilified Michael and those who would celebrate his life as if they were speaking for all Christians. He did not speak for me and judging by the rest of the material that appeared later today in his blog he most certainly never will. Let us not forget in the hours of television footage about Michael, that more than an entertainer of millions, he was a son, a brother, a father, a friend.
Michael Jackson was an icon, plain and simple. I remember clearly when Michael's song Ben, replaced Hey Jude in the number one spot of my mother's top ten list. It didn't matter how old you were, his music affected you, made you happy, sad, reflective, excited, wanting to get up and dance. My daughter quantified events in her life by releases of Thriller, Billie Jean and Bad music videos. They were, after all, events.
Two of his friends, Brooke Shields and Magic Johnson, delivered the most poignant stories. They were snapshots of a man who could have fun, laugh, enjoy his friends, his family, his children outside the glare of public life. In the countless hours of interviews that Michael did with Martin Brashears for ABC, his innocence was apparent. He repeated often, how shy he was off stage. His life from age 5 was performing. He did it well and was most comfortable when in front of an audience. It was evident that Michael truly was Peter Pan--the boy who never grew up.Was this the tragic flaw of Michael Jackson--wanting his lost childhood to last forever?
Michael Jackson was an icon, plain and simple. I remember clearly when Michael's song Ben, replaced Hey Jude in the number one spot of my mother's top ten list. It didn't matter how old you were, his music affected you, made you happy, sad, reflective, excited, wanting to get up and dance. My daughter quantified events in her life by releases of Thriller, Billie Jean and Bad music videos. They were, after all, events.
Two of his friends, Brooke Shields and Magic Johnson, delivered the most poignant stories. They were snapshots of a man who could have fun, laugh, enjoy his friends, his family, his children outside the glare of public life. In the countless hours of interviews that Michael did with Martin Brashears for ABC, his innocence was apparent. He repeated often, how shy he was off stage. His life from age 5 was performing. He did it well and was most comfortable when in front of an audience. It was evident that Michael truly was Peter Pan--the boy who never grew up.Was this the tragic flaw of Michael Jackson--wanting his lost childhood to last forever?
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Judy Blume
Those of you who know me, know that a writing idol of mine is Judy Blume. I regularly read her blog here at blogspot. In fact it is in my list of blogs. If you've never read her blog, take a moment and read her current post. She's a great writer and this post may give most of you--I am thinking Texans here--a reason to rethink NYC as a den of iniquity.
Big City Saga
Big City Saga
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