Happy Birthday Mom!

I'm sure most of you expected to see a Christmas blog today. I do tend to discuss the holidays and what they mean to me.

But, today is also my mother's birthday. As we have learned over the years, when you share a birthday with Jesus you very often play the second fiddle.

Not today.

That is not to say that this blog won't have some of my favorite Christmas memories. They are there, wrapped up with Mom's birthday.

Mom has mentioned, on numerous occasions, that she had only one birthday party growing up - when she was 5. We couldn't do too much to change this while we were growing up, but we have made the effort since we became adults.

While I'm certain the original idea came from Mom, Daddy always impressed upon us to wrap one present in birthday paper. We never did that whole "here's your Christmas birthday present" thing. We have always made an effort to have a birthday present.

Over time, Andrea and I have tried to even mix it up a little more. Make the birthday part of the equation even more memorable.

For instance, in 2002 Andrea and I took Mom to New York City.

She'd never been.

It was a total surprise.

And there is nothing in the world as magical as New York City at Christmastime.

We worked for months on an itinerary - the Rockettes, "Regis and Kelly", Tavern on the Green, "The Producers", and High Tea at the Plaza Hotel. We also shopped and did the touristy stuff. We presented the itinerary to her like she'd won a prize on a game show.






I'm pretty sure she had a great time.

Always looking to outdo ourselves, for her 60th birthday a few years later we gave her something else she'd never had before.

A SURPRISE birthday party.

Now, people, this took some serious doing. Mom seems to know everything that is going on and we never were very good at telling fibs to her. It was complicated somewhat by the fact that Andrea and I both live out of town so we did all this planning long distance.

But we pulled it off. We were able to gather a lot of her friends and had a very nice lunch. And she was honestly, truly surprised. I'm still not sure how we did it.

There aren't any big surprises or elaborate gifts this year. This year it will just be our family, at home.

But that's good, too.

We will remember the family members no longer with us. Laugh about how Papaw finished his Christmas lunch at the hospital on the day Mom was born. Joke about the sack and Army boot Daddy gave her one year when she wanted a trash compactor. Reminisce about having Christmas Eve dinner after church at Sambo's Restaurant every year for a long time and the year that Papaw forgot his wallet.

Christmas is a magical time. It is a time for family and friends. Time for loving and sharing. And a time for remembering that our Lord and Savior was born to ultimately save us all from ourselves and give us the greatest gifts of all.

But in our family another very important person was born on December 25th. She was there for all the asthma attacks and sicknesses, all the basketball and soccer games, the weddings, births of her grandchildren, and more than a few funerals.

She's our mom.

And we love her.

Happy Birthday Mom! Hope your day is wonderful!

To Tweet, Or Not To Tweet

Fox News presented a story this morning about a woman whose 4 year old son drowned in a pool and she was tweeting about it on Twitter half an hour later. Some were taking the position that it was just appalling that a mom would do it.

First of all, I cannot even begin to imagine the pain the mom had to have been going through.

Secondly, no one should judge how someone else grieves. Grief is completely personal and no two people approach it the same way.

Having said that, I have to say I, too, was shocked at first but only for a second. In today's electronically connected world it might have seemed like a perfectly normal thing to do. We send text and mass emails, share information through blogs and Facebook. Why not Twitter?

It might have actually made the process marginally easier to deal with. That mother could tell the tragic news once and all her friends and family got it. She didn't have to retell it, and relive it, dozens of times. Say it once and then get on to the next thing she needed to deal with. Most likely funeral arrangements.

I know when Mom's husband was sick their friend did the Dicky Chronicles and it was a way to get the news out - both the good and the bad - to a large group of friends, who could then share it with other friends. There is no random repeating of the facts (which can get messed up in the translation) and no inadvertently forgetting to call someone while you were deep in your grief and shock. I think it probably helped by Mom in a lot of ways.

So, while I am often reprimanded for being "too plugged in" and not spending time with my family, I do see there are advantages to having these large online groups. I have been able to reconnect with childhood friends and family members that have become scattered over the years. It helps that I know they are only a mouse click away.

Before anyone criticizes the way someone else handles a tragedy I think they should step back and stop for a minute. People younger than me spend an awful lot of time on their electronics and they think nothing of sharing news that way. The mother of a 4 year old is most likely quite a bit younger than I and probably falls into that category. They have their cell phones on and ready 24/7 so it was most likely just instinct that she picked it up and tweeted.

I guess, like everything else in life, things are a matter of perspective. I'd say all things in moderation, including living electronically, but who am I to decide how someone else should live their life? As long as they are truly living it.

I also think, at least in this case, the breaths wasted on being critical would have been better spent praying for a young mother and family that just lost a child and will never be the same.

Well, At Least the Puppies Ate Good...

OK, I would have totally won the "How Martha Were You" prize yesterday morning had I called the Martha Stewart morning show.

Totally.

I decorated the Christmas tree and the house, made crepes (with Nutella and marscapone cheese), cooked a giant pot of chili with cornbread and Riley's gumbo, made sauce for the tortellini, did a little shopping, and I baked.

Christmas cookies and cakes.

Boy, did I bake!

On Saturday I pulled out the cookie press for some spritz cookies. (I learned from Martha Stewart that spritz is the German word for squirt, which is how you make the cookies.) Trays and trays of cookies. So I set out a sample, kind of for decoration.



Having finished my last task of the day, I decided to take Riley for his walk.

This is what I returned to.



I asked Billy if he ate all the cookies and got a response of "what cookies?". I looked in Scooter's usual "laying place" in the kitchen and found the napkin.

(Not to fear, Billy did get plenty of cookies. The tray was only a sampling.)

So, Sunday rolls around and it is time for the big project.

Cakes.






I had seen this cake on another blog and wanted to try it. One for work and one for us.

This cake requires 3 boxes of cake mix. I only have two cake pans so this was an all-afternoon process.

Mix, tint, bake the batter.

Repeat.

Twice.

While the cake is baking I'm decorating and have the Christmas music going and all is well in my world.

I get the last two layers out and they are cooling.

Decorating is not far off now!

I walked upstairs to tell Billy something. Gone two minutes, max.

Yep.

You guessed it.

Patches ate the last two layers.

Not completely, but I think he only stopped because they were still burning hot out of the oven.

I walked back upstairs, tears in my eyes. All I could say was "Patches ate my cakes. Patches ate my cakes."

Billy's response - "All of them?" (I think he would have been secretly impressed had one dog eaten 6 cakes layers in that amount of time but wouldn't have said so.)

I pulled myself together and went to further survey the damage. Patches had munched about a third from each layer so I thought I'd just cut that part off and see what I could do.

This monstrosity was the result.




You can't really tell, I couldn't bring myself to photograph any more of it, but the layers split and it wouldn't stand up and it was just a huge disaster of a cake.

Fortunately, Billy is big believer in the adage that the food is all going to the same place and it doesn't matter what it looks like. He has been eating on this mound for a couple of days.

(He has a good soul, don't you think?)

Anyway, I took the good cake to work yesterday and it was oohhed and aaahhhed over and generally well received.

And my lesson - either get higher counters or smaller dogs....

Stop Seeking, Start Seeing

One of the best lessons I learned recently was that sometimes we can get so caught up in looking for something specific that we may miss something else equally as wonderful.

Billy and I love to travel.

We just don't always do it well together.

He has some crazy notion that I know where everything is and how to get to it even if I've never been there before.

Maybe it's a man thing.

Of course, this is not a new problem for us. We had our very first fight as a married couple while on our honeymoon in the Bahamas - because I couldn't find the zoo. We walked and walked and walked up a dusty road looking for the zoo.

The Bahamas in August is just a little toasty, too.

We finally stopped and turned around and headed back, obviously no longer interested in the zoo. We saw the sign for it on the way back, partially obscured by vines and stuff. But, the fight wasn't completely that I couldn't find the zoo. It was that Billy found a street vendor and bought one bottle of orange juice and drank it in front of me without offering me as much as a sip.

Like I said, it was a little toasty outside that day....

Anyway, I've gotten use to our obstacle in traveling.

So, 20 years later, our anniversary trip, in Rome, and some things never change.

I actually have a fairly decent sense of direction. I know how to look at the Sun and get my bearings and all of that. Prior to this trip my biggest challenge had been New York City. You can't see the Sun for all the tall buildings so I had to develop another plan.

But I have NEVER been so turned around in all my life as I was in Italy. No matter what we did, we could not figure out how to get where we were headed. We even did the smart stuff like turning around and retracing our steps to get back to the beginning and start over and we would manage to goof up even that.

So, on that first Sunday afternoon we'd managed to turn a 10 minute walk to the sightseeing bus into an hour, or two, or so, and still couldn't get to the meeting point. Tired and more than a little frustrated I finally just suggested that we stop.

Right where we were.

I looked around and saw a large staircase. So, we went to the top to, much like the bear, see what we could see.

What we found was an incredible museum. We spent a couple of hours inside, just looking at sculptures and portraits and incredible art.

We'd stopping seeking and just starting seeing. We'd quit trying to just find one specific place and took in our surroundings. I couldn't help but wonder what all we missed that morning while we were focused on the map and where we were on it.

How many things did we not have time to see because we'd spent so much time just tying to find one thing?

(I know there were lots of things there that we didn't see - the Spanish steps, the Pantheon, the mozzarella bar,,, But, those are all just reasons to go back someday.)

How much in our lives do we miss because we are only seeking and not seeing? How many opportunities pass us by simply because they aren't what we were looking for?

I'd venture to say there is much. I think I am probably missing a lot in my world because I don't really stop to see all that is around me.

I might have just come up with my New Year's Resolution - stop seeking, stop seeing.

Oh, and one thing has changed, When we got to the museum we went into the snack bar - and SHARED a Diet Coke.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles....

And taxis and water buses.

Matter of fact, we used every mode of transportation in Italy except motor scooters.

First of all, let me issue a sincere apology to all the New York City cab drivers I have ever maligned. They got nothin' on the Italians. Male, female, car, motorbike, no matter. They all drive 100 miles an hour and the Rules of the Road do not apply to the two-wheeled vehicles. We had motor scooters flying out from around corners, going the wrong direction, and driving up the middle to get to the head of the line.

Bizarre!

And scary.

I got the bejeebers scared out of me more than once. As a non-Italian driver I also got some dirty looks and less than kind gestures. But, at least no one let know I was number 1 in their books.....

Also, with all due respect to my friends and family in Texas, if you think things are bigger in Texas, you've not been to Rome.

Jiminy Christmas!

Massive is the only word I have for some of what I saw and that word is woefully inadequate.

History literally rose up out of the ground everywhere you turned. I think the history part of the trip is the one thing that moved me so much. The preservation of it all. Living in Natchez, the oldest continually settled area on the Mississippi, I know something about historic preservation, but nothing like these people.

The Catacombs in Rome run for 11 miles. 150,000 tombs and 2,000 still have bodies in them. But you can go down and see them and the tour starts in an underground church that still looks like it could have services. We toured the Duomo in Florence. It is enormous! I think the Statue of Liberty can stand upright on the inside. But we saw a staircase and went down. Underneath was an earlier Basilica. It was like they razed it at ground level and then just built on top. The original Mosaic floor was still there. There were stone steps leading up to, now nowhere. The crypts of the early clergy was still down there as were the altar where they worshipped.

Touring Pompeii. Knowing that the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius was 1,930 years ago yet from certain angles you had no idea it was 2009. The vineyards were replanted and Mt. Vesuvius loomed in the background, same as that day so long ago. Gardens have been replanted with period-specific plants and the excavation continues. We saw both restoration work and new digging.

And the streets. Still stones or bricks. I was very profoundly moved by some of this in Rome. Looking at the Coliseum; knowing the early Christians were fed to the lions there. And having it be real. It wasn't just a story in a book. I was seeing where it happened. I was walking the exact same streets that they walked. Walking where Jesus walked (potentially, anyway). One of the guides was telling the stories of the deaths of Peter and Paul - punishment for being Christian. Since Paul was a Roman citizen he was given the honor of being beheaded. Beheading at this time was considered an honorable death since the death was immediate. Peter was not a Roman so he was crucified. Non-citizens had to suffer.

I just got chills being there and seeing all that I read and heard about for so many years. Sure, the food was fantastic. The weather mostly glorious (did I mention that two or three nights we actually slept with the windows open - in November). And the people incredibly kind, although Billy wasn't impressed with their manners sometimes. Of course, he also thought if he spoke English just a little louder that they might miraculously understand him. I learned, quickly, that while I could certainly ask my questions in Italian I couldn't always understand the answers. But everyone I spoke to was patient and we gestured a lot to get the messages across.

I think I could write for days about the trip, but I won't bore everyone. Suffice it to say that we think we could live in Florence. I think being an English-speaking tour guide there could just about be the ultimate dream job.

We enjoyed our trip, our time together. We learned what we won't do if we get the opportunity to go back someday (DON'T rent a car - take the trains. There are numerous blog postings just in the disaster of having an automobile).

But I'll leave you with a few pictures. They are all on my Facebook page if you want to see the rest.

Brad Pitt for President

Now, before you all get your knickers in a bunch, keep reading.

I've said before that when Billy and I first met we were on opposite ends of many, many spectrum.

One was politics.

I was raised fairly conservatively (OK family members, clean up where you spit out your coffee on that understatement) and Billy was raised a Democrat.

We at least called ourselves Registered Independents so we could decide in which primaries to vote and gave ourselves the "freedom" to vote the person not the party.

Billy was raised a Democrat.

This caused many a interesting election nights, especially during the Clinton Years.

Being from Arkansas, they were ALL Clinton Years.

I will make no secret of the fact that I despise Bill Clinton. Not a fan of Hillary, either, but I cannot stand Bill Clinton. One thing that Billy has always tried to get me to see is a division of the President, the Man and the Office. I don't have to like the person in the Office but there should be some level of respect for the Office itself.

I think he makes a very good point but I could never see past all of Bill Clinton's embarrassments to see anything positive that came out of his Presidency. I'm sure there were accomplishments and so on but not in my view.

Because of my conservative nature I have not been a big supporter of our current President, either. I strongly disagree with a lot of his ideas. But I've been trying to at least listen and give them time. Not to take a hard line before they've had a chance to develop and either succeed or fail.

Now, over the years, Billy has moved his outlook a little more to the center and looks more at the Person than the Party when he votes. But he has always maintained that whether or not our candidate wins the election we should support the Office and try to give some benefit to the decisions being made.

He also did not support Mr. Obama for the election but he has really tried to be positive and open about what is going on. Until the other day. I don't know what we were watching but he just blurted out that he was so disappointed in everything that was going on right now. He couldn't see that the nation was making progress and he thought Mr. Obama was disingenuous to say he was not disappointed that Guantanamo Bay would not be closed by the original January 2010 deadline.

Something else was said on the television and Billy just said "if all they wanted was a celebrity, why didn't they just elect Brad Pitt".

I felt sort of like a mom watching a child lose their innocence.

Ciao, Y'all!

The Eternala City - she is bellisimo!

Tonight was a Rome by Night tour and it was very cool. We'd seen most of it today but everything is better at night.

I will have full stories, with pictures, coming next week but I didn't want you to think I'd abandoned you.

We are having a wonderful time, and there are LOTS of stories to share, but I have limited time on the internet so I will sign off for tonight.

Ciao!

Inspiration

I wrote the other day in my other blog about being called someone's inspiration. It felt good and made me feel all warm inside.

I want to do the same today.

My cousin has her own blog, www.i-get-to.blogspot.com, and she wrote the other day about an idea that she had after talking to a soldier in the Dallas airport. Her idea was to buy some McDonald's gift cards and have them with you when you travel over the holidays and give them to soldiers. Help them save some of their traveling money and say thank you at the same time.

Awesome idea, I say!

Somehow her regional McDonald's office found out about her idea and is helping to supply her with the gift cards. Awesome again I say, on their part. And she will be teaching her children a very valuable lesson this year about truly giving.

Not that her children need that particular lesson - if you read about them you will see that they are already pretty incredible kids and give a lot of themselves very unselfishly.

So, I've been inspired and I hope you will be also. Billy and I are traveling this week and I'm going to get some cards today to take with us. I don't know if we'll see any military but I want to be prepared. Though, I suspect we will run into plenty of them when we come home through Atlanta after Thanksgiving.

I'm also thinking of taking it a step further. I have a lot of points on credit cards and hotel rewards and such. I'm going to sell those for other gift cards to help the soldiers with some Christmas shopping. I know several of the websites are set up to do it and it only takes a few clicks on my part. So what if I'm giving up a free night; they give up sleeping in a bed every night.

These men and women do so much that they deserve all this and more.

So, thank you, Darla, for your wonderful, inspired and inspiring idea. I'd love to hear from anyone else with a thought. Let's take this and run with it and see how many folks we can help.

When Heroes Fall - 2

Today we remember the true heroes, our military men and women. In light of the events this week, I don't think we can ever thank them enough for what they do, what they sacrifice, what their families give up for the rest of us.

But I will try.

To any soldier out there, past or present, or their family, that may read this: thank you, thank you, thank you.

Now, your mission, should you accept it, go hug a soldier.

Or at least say thanks.

When Heroes Fall

OK, it was bad enough when Andre Agassi admitted that he used crystal meth. I was incredibly disappointed. He was one of the reasons I started watching tennis all those many years ago. I remember the controversy with Wimbledon the first year he played in the 80s and their all-white apparel policy. It was pretty much understood that Andre didn't even own anything white, much less wear it on the tennis court. He was known at that time for playing in bright colors, denim shorts and nothing remotely conventional.

He walked out on the court that day in a long, white, bathrobe-type garment and all white underneath. I can still see him.

He conformed.

So, his image is tarnished now - you remember the Canon commercials he did, Image Is Everything - but I didn't think it could get worse.

Then I read an excerpt from his new book - the autobiography that started it all.

That hair that I loved so much, that long blond spiked mullet that I truly crushed on as a young adult was nothing but a weave.

Fake.

Devastating.

Billy and I had long suspected the Hair Club for Men. When Andre did finally shave his head (strongly resembling the Mr. Clean genie) the hairline made it obvious that his hair had been receding, but I honestly never thought that a hairpiece was involved.

I mean seriously - he was only in his late twenties/early thirties.

Why did he have to tell?

What purpose was served?

This is something I've never understood. Why people, especially those in the public eye, feel the need to open up and spill their deepest and darkest secrets.

I remember a discussion I participated in one time, although I don't remember the context, and the topic was why a person will share information that only ends up hurting someone else. Like an affair. Why tell your spouse you've been having an affair if you've truly ended it and felt remorse and so forth? The only thing that comes from a confession is that the other party ends up feeling horrible.

And they did nothing about which to feel horrible.

They say confession is good for the soul, but I think the soul is the other thing that benefits. Rarely does any good come from laying everything out on the table.

I tried to put a more positive spin on the drug use - it wasn't a performance-enhancing drug. If fact, quite the opposite. He fell to 141st in the rankings and had to start playing qualifying tournaments. He didn't use regularly or for very long, only about a year.

But he lied when caught. I wish that he would have "manned up" and taken his suspension at the time and then put it behind him. Yes, he lied to the officials but he did actually take the right steps, stopped using, and made his way back up to a champion.

But it still hurts.

Of course, this isn't the first time that one of my heroes has disappointed me. Some of the people that I've loved and cared about the most in my life have let me down.

Not being perfect, I know that I've disappointed a lot of people myself. And I'm far from being anyone's "hero".

I do try, though, to go back and remember what it was that I first admired. It takes time, but I try. Andre has done wonderful charity work in Las Vegas with children and he honestly loved all the fans and tried his utmost out on the court - even though in the book he says he hates tennis. You never knew it to watch him play. He made tennis come to life for me and I loved, loved, loved watching him play.

I guess that is the hardest thing to do. To see past the disappointment. To not let the hurt overshadow the good that you've known for so long. That is particularly hard with those we love the most. We sometimes hold our loved ones up so high, on a pedestal taller than the tallest building, that when they fall in our eyes, they fall long and hard. I'm still trying to work past a few.

Which circles me back to my earlier question. If given the opportunity to confess to something we've done, should we? Is it fair to unburden our soul only to place that burden of knowledge on another's shoulders? What purpose is served? Wouldn't we be better people if we somehow dealt with our demons privately?

I guess there just seems to be so much out there right now - David Letterman and his affairs with his staff workers, Makenzie Phillips and the unspeakable things that happened with her father, and so on. Not that either of those two are heroes to me, but still.....

Some things are just better left unsaid.

I mean, I could have died happy some day not ever knowing about the hair.

The Times, They Are A'Changing

We had one trick-or-treater last night.

1

O-n-e.

And I left the light on until 7:30. (The Chief of Police said he thought everyone should be finished by 8).

Our mayor had designated from 5 to 6:30 last night for children to trick-or-treat at the downtown businesses (odd for a Saturday when most were closed, I know) so I thought, living a few blocks from the main downtown streets, that we would have a few.

But we had one. An adorable Spiderman who was probably between 3 and 4 years old. His daddy stood next to him as he peered into my candy bowl. I picked up a bag of Whopppers and asked "Would you also like a Snickers?"

His head bobbed up and down so fast! "Uhhh uhhhh!"

His daddy told him to say Yes ma'am so he did and then turned around to go down the steps to his mom, waving the candy in his hand.

His daddy reminded him to say thank you, and he did.

I came back in the house and was telling Billy about our little visitor and how I remembered my dad keeping a little notebook with tally marks each year to see how many children came by. I guess that was his way of gauging the age of the neighborhood.

(I also remember a lot of funny stories involving a particularly hideous rubber mask that we got at Disney World but that's another post! Daddy got more use out of that mask. It was a man's face with warts and a big nose and it was just awful. I will tell you the funniest thing, though. When we got those masks (I got a Frankenstein, for the record) Mom and Dad put this one on my sister - who was still young enough to be in the stroller - say maybe 3 years old - and people would stop to see the child and do a double-take when this awful face, with two blond ponytails, was staring back at them. They just were expecting to see a sweet child's face and not this "thing". It really was funny. I know I'm not doing it justice.)

Anyway, Billy made the comment that he couldn't believe there still was trick-or-treating with the people have been acting.

And he's right.

After having the wonderfully positive story of Jaycee Duggard being returned to her family 19 years after being kidnapped, we had two more beautiful young girls in a matter of weeks that weren't so lucky.

(And to the person who threw that precious 7 year old girl from Florida in the trash so she'd end up in a landfill......that action was so far beyond reprehensible that I can't find an adjective strong enough. Being a lady precludes me from typing here what I wish would happen to that person.)

It made me stop and think.

We all rolled our clocks back an hour last night. What if we could roll back time about 50 years instead? To a time when families stayed together, you knew your neighbors and they helped you look after your children, church was a common part of everyone's lives, neighborhoods and communities truly existed. To a time when you could spank your child for misbehaving and a "time out" was only in sports. Maybe even back to when you could sleep at night with your doors unlocked. My house is locked up now 24/7 - especially when I'm in it.

I remember when Adam Walsh was taken from the Sears store in Florida - late 70s I think. It was big news because it was a rare occurrence. You really can't say that anymore.

Which is sad.

Like a lot of things, I wonder how we got here.

I'm thinking if we could "fall back" about 50 years then maybe when we "spring forward" we could just skip the 60s this time.

Living a Good Life

I recently attended a service for my late stepfather. It was the first time I'd been in his church since his funeral last summer. It was good to see his family again. Everyone was there. I saw his children and grandchildren, his nieces and nephews, and great-nieces and nephews (not a bratty, snotty-nosed kid in the bunch!) and visited with his brothers and parents.

The point of the service was to present and bless a railing that had been added to the balcony with memorial funds given to the church.

My pictures didn't come out well but let me describe it.









The rail resembles the shape of a suspension bridge, made with wooden posts instead of wire. Only the rail is about 2/3rds of the bridge. A short ascent up to the longest pole and then a sloping down and away to the other side.

The architect explained his vision to my mom. The longest pole represented Dicky and the poles on the ascending side represented all the people Dicky helped before he was a doctor and the long expanse of poles on the descending side are all the people Dicky helped after he became a doctor.

A very nice, simple concept and very fitting.

I thought that day about the last time I'd been there. We'd had a private family funeral in his church, which is fairly small and a public service in a much larger church down the street.

We had to have the public service in a larger church because of all the people that Dicky touched in his life. And that church was full to the rafters. I don't remember seeing too many available seats.

It has made me stop and wonder - am I living a good life? What kind of attendance would my funeral draw? Am I making a difference in the lives of people around me?

My cousin's blog posed a similar question recently - based on a book she had read. I think the focus was a little different, but the concept was the same.

All I can say is that I try. I try to treat people well. I try to help when I can. I try to follow the Golden Rule and do unto others.

I believe in my heart that you do good and right things because it is what you are supposed to do, not because you seek any type of recognition. You do it because you should.

And, ultimately, that is all I can control.

My actions.

How they are perceived by others isn't really something I have much say over.

But I'll never stop trying - to be the best "me" I can be.

What If.....

What if the Founding Fathers could come back and see what a mess we've made of this democracy/republic they developed and entrusted to future generations?

I personally think they would be shocked and appalled.

What if I could create a new system of government? What would I do differently?

I have given this a lot of thought. I have been watching a lot of the Congressional hearings on health care reform.

I am sick of seeing these adults behave like petulant children on an elementary school playground.

No one seems to have an original thought, and, if they do, the other side refuses to listen to it. I was disgusted at watching one hearing in particular. Every time one of the Republican members tried to present an idea for a vote the Democratic chair would cut them off and say "It isn't going to pass, do you still want to vote?"

And I'd be just as angry if the roles were reversed. How dare anyone assume to know how the other committee members will vote. Unless, of course, we've sunk so low that we will only vote along party lines with absolutely no consideration whatsoever of the actual ideas on the table.

Horrible!

These men and women are elected to do a job, which entails actually working, and they are doing no more than playing politics.

So, back to my original question.

What would I do differently if I could revamp the system?

Two words:

TERM LIMITS!

There should be no such thing as a career politician. The members of Congress should be subject to term limits same as the President and a lot of elected officials on lower levels.

Maybe then they'd spend their time in office truly serving their constituents. They wouldn't have time to try and broker deals and so on. They wouldn't be spending their time campaigning for the next term since they would only have a limited time to be there.

Maybe they would do some good.

Especially if they realized that all the policies they were trying to implement would affect them also. They would no longer be protected from the health care system they want to force on the rest of us. They'd actually have to participate in Social Security so maybe they'd pay more attention to making it work and ensuring its longevity. They might change some of the IRA and 401(k) rules if they knew they weren't going to draw their salaries until their deaths at taxpayer expense.

Maybe they would actually do some good, for a change.

Which brings me to my second idea: SECRET BALLOTS

I know that we, the people, should have the right to know how our representatives vote on issues. And that access should be retained. But some of these folks might actually vote their conscience instead of the established party line if everyone else in the room wasn't staring at them.

I know they should do that anyway, but they don't. I've watched both sides just ignore perfectly good topics of discussion for no reason other than it wasn't their party who brought it up.

Pathetic, really.

I know, I live in a fantasy world.

But at least in my world there is order.

My Rock

The greatest gift I have ever received arrived 45 years ago today.

Of course, I didn't get to see this gift until almost 23 years had passed.

Today's Thoughts will be brief.

Billy really doesn't like any attention.

But his birthday is today and I just want to wish him a wonderful day.

I take great pleasure in every minute we spend together and I delight in proving him wrong about one thing. Before we were married he was convinced he would never live to see 30. Some of his lifestyle choices at the time might have actually made that a reality. But I woke him up on his 30th birthday and said "See! You made it!"

He is the reason I get out of bed every day. Just to see what that day will hold for us.

So, congratulations Honey on making it another year. I've got a lot of things planned for you before your next birthday so you'd better rest up while you have the chance.

I love you with all my heart.

Love you more than Life.

Have a wonderful day!

Boys of Summer, Snowed Out

I just couldn't believe last weekend when the baseball game in Denver was postponed on account of snow.

Snow.

There just seems to be something wrong with that picture.

Baseball is supposed to be a summer sport. Summer to me is that time frame between Memorial Day and Labor Day.

Then its done.

Simple.

I like baseball, sorta. I really used to love baseball. When Billy and I lived in Kansas City we would often take off work early and go catch a Royals game. Sometimes even a double header. So relaxing and fun and kind of peaceful.

A very nice afternoon.

But after a few players' strikes I put them on "The List".

You see I keep a mental list of things that I think are out of line - actors who get political for example - and then I stop supporting them.

I won't watch movies or television shows if one of the actors has made me mad with their views. (Yes, they are entitled to an opinion but they use their celebrity inappropriately to influence). I won't be flying Delta Airlines after this next trip because they charge for ANY checked bag. (It was Royal Dutch KLM when we bought the tickets but they merged with Delta. And how can you not check at least one bag? Toothpaste won't go through security!)

And I quit giving my hard earned dollars to a bunch of grown men playing a game for a living and having the nerve to complain about it.

Harsh? Maybe. But that's how I feel.

So when I saw the postponed game my first thought was that they shouldn't be playing this late in the year anyway.

Of course if they play longer than they get slightly closer to earning some of those millions they demand. Earning a million over 8 months is somehow marginally more palatable than earning a million over only 4 months.

Maybe there is an upside to the season.....

Is It Just Me?

I don't know about you, but I am so tired of hearing about the Gosselins I could just scream.

And I want to scoop up all 8 children and give them a hug.

Reality TV, not that it truly is reality, is one of my pet peeves. I cannot stand it. I realize that, unlike sitcoms, the night's situation doesn't necessarily get resolved and tied up in a nice neat little bow at the end of the show but really, is there anything even remotely "real" about television crews filming your every move?

And besides the fact that there is an inordinate number of children, how is their life any different from the rest of the world?

I guess that is why I don't see the appeal in these shows. Life goes on all around me. I don't need to watch anyone else's.

Both parents are behaving badly, in my opinion, and so far the only thing I've agreed with was when Jon said the children need to come off the show.

Like he was.

I say pull the plug.

Just a Reminder to Say Thanks

My cousin put together this video as a tribute to the outgoing commander of the Corp of Engineers in Afghanistan (in 2007). The video is from photos he took while serving there. I even see him in one!

It shows some really good stuff that we're doing over there. I also see a lot of happy soldiers and people making the best of a situation. With Veteran's Day coming up I think it is important to remember all who serve, in any capacity, living or deceased, and their families who give them up for a time for the rest of us. I have been extremely proud of all the family members, on both sides on my family, who have served - and there are many. I hope you enjoy the video.

I find this one in particular very special because of the location. While I am miles and miles away from what anyone would classify as a feminist, I do believe very strongly in the rights of women and the Afghan culture, prior to us helping them see the light, was not particularly strong on women's equality. The book "A Thousand Splendid Suns" shed a bright light on what I consider to be the problems with the Taliban leadership.

So, for us to be over there helping to build schools and infrastructure and support a government that recognizes that women are more than a man's possession is a wonderful thing in my eyes. Yes, I know we can't force someone to believe as we do, but we can absolutely support those who are trying.



P.S. He says it looks better when viewed at half screen or smaller.

Hi, My Name is Deanne, and I'm a Geek

The first step in solving a problem is to admit you have one.

I am an electronics geek. I LOVE gadgets! I can't help myself. I want the newest and latest and greatest of everything.

Computers, video games, you name it.

I cycled through several versions of Palm Pilots before switching to BlackBerrys. I'm currently trying to restrain myself from buying the BlackBerry Bold. I have an iPod Nano (the small 1 and half square inch one - before they made it bigger) and I just got an iPod Touch. The Touch was a compromise. I didn't want to give up a lot of the features of the BlackBerry phone for an iPhone but I wanted the iPhone for all the cool things it did. So I bought the iPod Touch to split the difference. OF course, a new one came out the next week. Such is life.

Now, a side note. I may be extremely conservative in my thinking but I'm also very "green". Old cell phones always get donated to charities that can reuse them and the BlackBerry company offers a trade-in program so I can send in the old ones to be refurbished and resold. I do not have a graveyard of old discarded gadgets lying around.

As much as I love my computer and my mini and all the other "toys", there is one thing that I don't think can ever be replaced in my world by an electronic substitute.

Books.

I love books more than just about anything. I get chills in a library. The quiet and the stillness. And all those books. Shelf after shelf, room after room.

Billy and I went into the world's largest bookstore in New York earlier this month. It was Heaven! I could have stayed in there for hours.

Books have always been my friends. I remember many, many Saturday mornings in Laman Library. I would pick out stacks of books and start reading as soon as I got home. Sometimes I would finish the books that afternoon but they were supposed to last until the next Saturday.

Nancy Drew, Trixie Belden, the Bobsie Twins. Judy Blume, Stephen King (when I was older!).

There was just no end to where my imagination could take me.

I've tried books on tape. I've tried electronic books. I've seen the Kindle and I must admit that I'm intrigued. 1,500 titles in one place. Sure would be easier to carry. Definitely would take up less space than the hundreds I own now.

But I just can't bring myself to do it.

I love the way a hardback feels in my hands. Solid. I love turning the pages of good bond paper. I even pick out bookmarks that I think will "go with" that book. Sometimes the book itself is the story. I have first editions. I have old books that belonged to my greatgrandmothers, grandparents, my mom's friends and my dad. I have stood in line for hours to get books signed - Oliver North, Lewis Grizzard, Greg Iles, many others.

It all makes reading a book so much more of an experience. Its more that just a story to me.

I recently attended my 25th high school reunion and that included a campus tour. The library is now mostly computers. Very few books.

That was actually the saddest thing to me. There are over 2,200 computers on my old high school campus. Students just look things up online; Google it; internet searches.

I bet most kids haven't even heard of the Dewey Decimal System and the card catalogue.

If you don't love to read, you won't get this post. If you do, then you understand. A good story can keep me up all night. I wait very impatiently for authors to finish books. If I could stay home all day and read, I would.

Maybe someday.

Maybe someday.

Gotta Give Credit

OK, you all got my post last week about DirecTv and that customer loyalty is not rewarded.

Apparently, it depends on who you talk to.

After all back and forth last month with the package changes and upgrades and all our bill this month was a little confusing. Certain aspects of it didn't follow the notes I'd made during my conversations with all the customer service reps.

As his is manner, when Billy has a question about a bill I find it laying at my place when I come home for lunch. This month's bill was there late last week with a big question mark on the envelope.

That means I have a job to do.

I called today. Dreading it since I figured I'd have to go back through everything that had transpired.

But I got a good one. She started going through everything and reading all the notes from the prior calls. She asked once if we could skip over the equipment charge (the bill reflected the original $99 and not the $60 I had been promised) and went on to a few other miscellaneous items that appeared to be duplicated.

Then she asked if I would mind holding.

That "hold" always worries me, but I of course I agreed. I already had 20 minutes invested in the phone call - had to see it through.

Much to my surprise, when she returned she just started apologizing. The whole thing should have been a zero dollar upgrade (just like the new customers get) and the technician should have deactivated the receiver being replaced which accounted for some of the extra charges. She asked at this point if I minded holding again so she could get me a revised total.

I was almost speechless.

No, I told her, I didn't mind holding. The only thing I minded was that I didn't get her the first time I called!

So, it total, it did take four phone calls but the company made it right and I believe in sharing the good and the not so good.

I'll actually enjoy watching TV tonight. It isn't costing me as much as I thought.

Come Fly With Me

This will be brief. More of a rant than a thought.

I believe, firmly, in keeping airline baggage handlers employed. I get really really aggravated at people that carry on a lot of bags on an airplane. They take up time and block the aisle. I carry on my purse and a book. If there is any more than that then it is my purse and small tote bag.

Both of which fit under the seat in front of me.

I thought maybe with the changes at security since September 11, 2001 that more people would check their bags since most toiletries and stuff won't go through.

I've been wrong before. Human nature hasn't changed. Folks just want to keep their stuff close. I know that airlines lose stuff. I've had it happen - once - in all my years of traveling.

But I still had hope and I stuck to my guns. Luggage should be checked!

Until this last trip.

Jet Blue, along with many other airlines, now charges for a second checked bag. Since I can't go anywhere without two bags - and that is a struggle at times - I was facing a dilemma.

We prefer not to incur any unnecessary expenses.

So, I actually carried on a bag. Billy did too. And since I couldn't take my normal tote bag (you can only have one carry on and one personal item) I had to figure out how to get everything wedged into those two bags. This trip requires lots of different types of clothing as well as all the accessories needed for watching outdoor sports (stadium cushions, binoculars, etc.) It was really stressful for me. I realize that sounds silly, but it was a big deal to me.

Now, I know many of you are just thinking, "pay the $25" but it really is the principle of the thing.

Airlines now charge you for just about everything - food, drinks, blankets, headphones. And they don't accept cash - credit or debit cards only.

It is almost as if we have to pay for the privilege of flying on their airline.

No one is that special!

Why do things have to be so complicated? Not only did I have the added stress of two bags, which was intensified on the return trip by the addition of purchases made while on vacation, but I had some of those confiscated at security.

I didn't realize that tomato paste, purchased from an authentic Italian grocery, was considered as "paste" under the TSA rules and the 4.3 oz tubes exceeded, obviously, the 3.0 oz limit.

I know, should have been apparent from the name. But honestly.....

Southwest Airlines is looking better and better to me. And they are expanding their routes to include more places we visit. (I've always enjoyed flying them but that haven't always been an option since we moved down South.)

They seem to be one of the few corporations that truly remember that without passengers/customers there are no flights.

No jobs.

No luggage to handle.

Membership Has Its Privileges - Right?

DirecTv was launched in June 1994. My husband and I became subscribers in August 1995. One could say we were on board almost from the beginning. While we don't subscribe to all the available programming packages, we're not cheap either. DirecTv has made a pretty penny from us over the years.

I thought I had learned my lesson in the 80s with VCRs and taping everything I couldn't watch. I thought I had finally convinced myself that if I didn't have time to watch it the first time then I most likely wouldn't have time later. I avoided the satellite receivers with the digital recorders for a long time.

Then I caved.

And I love it! Whole seasons of shows get recorded and I get little mini-marathons whenever I chose. After enjoying this "bliss" for several years I decided to upgrade our second receiver to a DVR also. The logic escapes me - how I think I'll get to recorded programming on two televisions when the first one stays about 65% full at all times - but I wanted to upgrade.

On television the advertisements said new customers could get a free DVR upgrade just for switching.

If new customers could get that then surely long-time, loyal, devoted customers like us could get the same deal. Right?

Wrong!

On the first phone call I discovered that the receiver costs $200 plus $20 shipping and handling and $149 installation charge.

After a little discussion they agreed to waive the shipping and handling and installation charge.

A second phone call revealed that we were entitled to one receiver just for having programming. When I pointed out that we had purchased a second receiver already a few years before then I should be getting the new receiver free to replace the current free one.

Long story short (or is it too late for that??) it took three phone calls and I didn't get it all for free, but I got it down to $60. A moral victory if nothing else.

Why isn't customer loyalty rewarded? Why did I have to make 3 phone calls for something that common sense says should have taken place at DirecTv's initiation? Why don't satellite and cell phone and Internet providers actually call customers and tell them when there is a better plan or an improved service?

Why don't companies take care of those that take care of them?

In my world, we send out newsletters and emails with tax planning tips. I invite my non-profit clients to industry training to help them do their jobs better. I bake pies for my catering customers for their birthdays or other occasions without being asked. My husband cleans spots for his customers at no charge and hasn't raised his rates in 9 years - even when gasoline prices skyrocketed.

We try to take care of them because without our clients and customers we don't have jobs.

I know that the only way I could ever make a point with a service provider is to change. Money and actions speak louder than words. I could go to Dish Network or Verizon or T-Mobile.

But that takes time. Time I don't have.

Time I shouldn't have to spend.

These companies should not just assume that because I've been a customer for a long time that I will continue to be if not treated with respect.


I had originally planned to end this post here. As this rattled around in my head recently I realized that we, as people, often do similar things to those we love. We just assume that our family and friends will always so stand by or stand behind us without us asking or showing the proper respect, just because they are family. I can't just assume that my husband wants to help me with a project - I should ask. I should show the same appreciation for the value of his time as I expect others to show to me. We should use the good china for everyday dinners not just when company comes over or for a holiday. Aren't our loved ones special enough for the "good stuff"? I guess I can't expect others to do that which I'm not willing to do myself.

No Promises, No Regrets

I recently returned from a vacation with my husband. It is an annual event and my absolute favorite week of the year. He and I go to New York City every August to watch Round 1 of the US Open Tennis Tournament. The other 3 days we catch shows, sight see, shop, relax, whatever we want to do.

It is just the two of us. No responsibilities. No pressures. No timetables (or not much anyway). And no one that we know. Billy has become very guarded with this week. It is our week. Even though I've had friends also travel to the Open and we know people who live in Manhattan he doesn't want to see any of them.

And that's OK. We need our time to be Deanne and Billy - no one's son or daughter or mom or dad or sister or brother. Just us.

The funny thing is, whenever I tell people where we're going I'm always asked if I play tennis. No one ever asked me that when I went to watch a football game, or a golf tournament, or a baseball game. Up until last summer I always said No. Even now it is a hesitant "I play AT tennis".

But people always seem amazed.

I'm not really sure why it matters. Don't all sports need spectators? Don't we all have different roles to play - some are athletes, some are fans? I've watched major tennis tournaments (on television) since I was in high school - even had the opportunity to go to Wimbledon in 1984 but 18 year olds don't always make good decisions - and my family used to go to the Dallas Cowboy game for Thanksgiving. I lived in Kansas City and attended many Royals baseball games. Sports are a big part of my life.

What tends to really bumfuzzle people, I think, is the lengths to which we will go to attend some of these events. For our 7th or 8th anniversary I gave Billy tickets to see Florida State play Miami. We lived in Kansas City at the time. I next wanted him to see Florida State play Florida. That entailed purchasing season tickets. So we did. Kept them for several years. Oddly enough when we moved back down South and technically closer to Florida it became more difficult to get away for the weekends so we had to give them up. But we had a lot of fun sitting in Doak Campbell Stadium.

I never really thought it was unusual. If you want to do something, do it.

Like most people, I have a "Bucket List". My objective, though, is to be steadily scratching stuff off BEFORE I reach an absolute point of Now or Never.

Because, technically, aren't we always at a point of Now or Never? We don't come with expiration dates stamped on our feet. There is no crystal ball that shows us the date of our final day.

There are no promises of a tomorrow. And, while some people fall ill and have some forewarning that they need to get busy on their List, a lot of people don't. Things just happen.

I have a couple of pictures from 2001 that I cherish. Both were taken in the courtyard of the World Trade Center complex. One is a shot straight up of the Twin Towers and the other is Billy and me standing in front of the globe with the fountain in the background. Less than 2 weeks later none of that was there anymore. The globe survived but was damaged and moved. I have a picture of that as well. The terrorist could have just as easily struck on the day I was there. The sky was just as blue and clear. There was nothing significantly different - but we were lucky. It was not our day.

No matter how I leave this world, or when, I want to have as few regrets as possible. I don't want to look at my List and think about all that I could have done if I had just taken the time.

Some people don't "get" that. They think you should wait until you retire to travel, or you should save the money rather than spend it on a trip, or a piece of art or whatever it is that you want. I say we may not have time to wait. We may not be around to spend the money we saved.

Anything is possible.

No promises, no regrets.

For Spanky D

Fourteen years ago today our family expanded by one.

A very special one.

Clayton Russell - Clay to his friends - made his appearance.

My second nephew.

That day was very special for me. Since Hayden was only 2 years old it was decided that his dad would stay at home with him overnight rather than with my sister in the hospital. Everyone else had other obligations so I got the very wonderful honor of spending Clay's first night in this world with him and my sister in the hospital.



Matter of fact, having previously had a big boy baby, my sister had learned a few things about trying to keep one fed - mostly she learned that bottles were not a bad thing. When the nurse came in with Clay during to night to eat my sister just looked at the nurse, pointed to me sitting in the chair, and said "hand him to her". So I got to hold that precious little boy and feed him his bottle. Despite having no children of my own, I didn't goof it up too badly. Even remembered to burp him! The next morning I had to drive back to Kansas City but as I said my goodbyes Clay did the one thing that babies do best - he threw up on me.

I still have that shirt. Cleaned up of course. Even in the massive clean out/give away last week I couldn't part with it. It holds a very sweet memory for me.



Of course, he isn't a little boy any more. He, like most of the family, is taller than me. He probably won't need my help carving the pumpkins anymore. But, to me, he'll always be that sweet little toddler who started every morning waddling down the hall, usually in little more than a diaper, arms outstretched to get a hug from his mom (I would do if I were in charge and Mom wasn't home) and start his day off right.

He is still sweet, still starts a lot of his days with a hug, very polite and a ton of fun. I am so glad he is one of us!

Happy Birthday Clay! I hope you have a wonderful day and many, many more.

Dee Dee loves you!

Big Tobacco, Big Problem

I was mortified this morning when I heard of yet another enormous settlement awarded to a family of a smoker against the Big Tobacco companies.

I don't get it.

Is there anyone out there who doesn't know that smoking can kill you? Anyone?

The warning labels have been on the packages since the 60s.

Here is my take on it. I am diabetic. My particular version is that I am insulin resistant. If I engage in behaviors that cause my pancreas to overproduce insulin it doesn't know when to stop and then my body can't process all the extra insulin running around in there.

I have been very vigilant with my diet since I was diagnosed 7 years ago. I have in recent years become more vigilant with my exercise to also help keep things under control. The medication I take every night is just the icing on the cake - so to speak.

It was explained to me like this - if my pancreas keeps overproducing insulin and not stopping it could wear out. Then it produces no insulin. Making me an insulin-dependent diabetic. An insulin-dependent yet insulin-resistant diabetic.

See the problem there?

So I pay attention to what I do. It is a choice. My choice.

If I didn't and ate everything I wanted all willy-nilly and then died of diabetic complications some day I don't think that gives my family the right to sue Hostess or Little Debbie or Blue Bunny ice cream.

They may have provided the means but I took the action.

Millions of people don't smoke. I have never once in my life lit up a cigarette. Ever. (Being an asthmatic plays into that - I've always said if I was going to commit suicide it would be by a faster method)

The cigarettes are available to me same as they are to everyone else. I made a choice. And everyone who buys a pack makes a choice.

A choice based on facts and circumstances that cigarettes are harmful to your health.

The argument is that the tobacco companies put all this stuff in the cigarettes to keep people hooked on them. Food can be just as addicting. Ask anyone who truly has weight problems.

Comfort food is called that for a reason. It makes us feel better when we eat it. And some folks need a lot of comfort. But there are other options out there if we look for them.

Personal responsibility. Making the right choices. Accepting the consequences of those choices.

Apparently these are dying skills.

Forgiveness, Redemption

I have been struggling with something lately.

Anyone who knows me knows how I feel about animals. Animals in general and dogs in particular.

I love them. I simply love them.

You can imagine how I felt when the Michael Vick/dogfighting scandal initially broke. I was crushed, and horrified, and disgusted, and angry. My husband and I sent strongly worded emails to just about everyone involved, including Roger Goddell, NFL Commissioner.

(I know, you're all shocked. Deanne have an opinion? And express it? Who'd have thunk it!)

Yes. I did express myself over the situation.

So, I was very glad when he was convicted and lost his job and went to prison. I was very glad. In my personal opinion it wasn't punishment enough, but at least it was something. In fact, Mr. Vick should probably thank his lucky stars that I was no where close to being personally involved in this case. The bottom of the prison would be all that he'd see ever again.

Anyway. Michael Vick has met his prison term and was released recently. I can't argue since he served the time he was given, with the usual shortcuts. He was still conditionally suspended by the NFL - all dependent on if a team was willing to sign him and even then he could only practice for now. May or may not get to play in the regular season.

Here's my struggle.

I know on one level that if someone is truly sorry for his actions, serves his or her time, accepts the punishment, seeks redemption, we're supposed to forgive.

The saying is forgive and forget, but I doubt that I'll ever forget.

I guess I'm just not sure that he is really and truly sorry - sorry for the action, not just sorry that he was caught. Because at first he didn't own up to it. He was fully prepared to throw his buddies under the bus.

Did he really learn anything? Has he changed? Just working with the Humane Society and giving children lectures on the evils of dogfighting does not seem to be cutting it with me.

I want to believe. I want to think he'll be a better person and that I can forgive him. I don't even know why I think it is important to forgive him, except that I think on some level I'm supposed to. That it would be the right thing to do.

Wouldn't it?

I just think that what he did was so horrible and devoid of any feeling for a living creature that I have to wonder if he could redeemed. Can you commit those acts and then suddenly go on as if you didn't? Can a person honestly and truly leave that kind of lifestyle behind?

I hope so.

Here's the ironic thing about the whole situation.

The dogs would forgive. They would forgive and never blink an eye. They would lick his face and wag their tails. That is what is so heartbreaking. The men and women who support dogfighting and train these animals to hang from trees and attack each other feed on the unconditional love that the dogs have for their owners and the insatiable need that the dogs have to please. Those dogs will do anything to get positive attention from the humans - and I use that term loosely - that treat them so poorly. They will very literally fight to the death just to receive a pat on the head and a "good boy!".

I read an article in Sunday's paper about a woman in Los Angeles who has for several years run a "rescue mission" of sorts. She currently has 225 pit bulls that have been saved, and she is assisted by parolee volunteers (none of those listed had dogfighting on their rap sheets). I guess she's trying to save man and beast. I applaud her efforts. (No Mom, we're not getting into the business. We're full and out of space now! No worries!)

So, I watch the news and hear the stories of Michael Vick - practicing with the Philadelphia Eagles, making the talk show circuits and giving his talks to the youth of America - and I wonder why I can't forgive him.

I guess the dogs are better men than I.

Living Life, Learning Lessons

When I was in the 6Th grade the President, Jimmy Carter I believe, started promoting a new fitness program for youth. Part of the program was a test at the end. You had to run a specified distance, throw a softball and hang from a chin bar (boys had to do pull ups).

I was fairly "sickly" (as the old folks would say) as a child. Sometimes going outside to play could very literally be a matter of life and death. I remember many times being rushed to the doctor after just a regular afternoon of being out.

So, the fitness test seemed to be pretty much out of the question for me.

Now, the rewards for all this "fitness" were patches. Not sure where you were supposed to put the patches but there was white for the third level, red for the second level and the Presidential medal for the top level. Your level was determined based on how fast you could run, how far you could throw and how long you could hang.

I really couldn't do any of the three.

And the prospects of achieving of these skills in a really short period of time were fairly nonexistent.

My 12 year old brain thought surely if my doctor explained to the teacher that I couldn't physically participate then I would be excused and there had to be patch for that.

Had to be.

That was 30 years ago. In today's society I probably would have been correct. Now everyone gets a reward just for participating. (Some of you may argue with me but you know deep down that I'm right.)

But my 12 year old brain didn't think it was fair to be "punished" for something that I couldn't do. It wasn't that I didn't want to or wasn't trying, I just couldn't.

To both my parents' credit, they agreed to let me "train". This had to be hard for them. I'm sure that every time Daddy and I went to the high school track for me to run 40 yards or we went out in the front yard to throw the softball they probably held their collective breaths. A parents' first instinct is to protect their child and those asthma attacks could sneak up almost without warning.

And inhalers for kids weren't invented yet.

Daddy and I worked for whatever time we had, maybe a month or so, and then the big day came.

And I did it.

I earned a white patch.

I doubt there were any extra seconds on the run or the hang and no extra inches on the softball throw, but I did meet the minimum requirements.

I had achieved what I didn't think I could.

This story occurred to me as I was jogging the other day.

Yes, I said it - jogging. She who couldn't run to the corner and back can almost run a mile and half now.

And I thought to myself, what if I'd been allowed to just get a patch for participating? What if Mom and Dad hadn't been willing to let me try? I'm sure one asthma attack would have put a stop that. What if I'd been willing to settle, to not push myself?

What are children learning today - those that don't get to keep score so no one loses, those who all get a reward no matter what they do or don't do? They may not ever learn to see what is on the other side, to see what all they are capable of, to know the real feeling of accomplishment.

And I think that's kind of sad. Everyone needs a goal. We need to be able to handle defeat and feel the pride of achievement. Because life is full of both. We all need to push ourselves a little and expand our boundaries and horizons. Not just always accept the situation on its face but work to do things better or differently. Challenge ourselves.

What is life without a challenge?

I hope I never find out.

Its All in the View

So many topics, so little time.

First of all, before I climb my soapbox, let me say unequivocally that the United States of America is the best nation in the world in which to live. That does not mean, however, that I don't occasionally fantasize about an island in the Caribbean with just the husband and the dogs where we are in charge. No rules, no laws, no nothing. (No shoes, No shirt, No problems - Kenny Chesney)

Now that we're clear on that, let the blogging begin.

This country was founded on political dissonance. A group of forward-thinking men got together a couple of hundred years ago to discuss the problems with the British monarchy. Their solution - a representative, two-party system with elected officials and three branches of government to keep the other branches in check.

Sounds good.

You know there were arguments and loud conversations and any number of ideas tossed around and debated. Late night conversations. You've all seen the drawings of the Founding Fathers in the meeting hall, fingers raised, passions evident.

So what has happened?

Now the two-party system is a dividing line. It was originally an idea to make sure that we never had a monarchy again. That one person would not determine the fate of the country without question. Now. Not so much. It is our guy against your guy. Our guy is best and shame on you for thinking otherwise.

This goes for both sides.

Problem is, we all take sides also. And our view of the situation at hand sometimes clouds our overall judgment.

For example. I get tons of political emails forwarded to me. But in today's electronic world how do you know what to believe? I remember during the election receiving an email with photos of Sarah Palin holding a gun, holding a glass of wine in a short skirt, etc. Ugly things being said about her not being fit to serve. A little research on my part (clicked on snopes.com) proved that the pictures were Photoshopped and not real. So how much else is not real? Did the current President really misspell/misspeak/misuse the word "advice" as stated in another email I received the other day? Don't know yet. The point of the email was that Dan Quayle was practically crucified for misspelling potato (with no one pointing out that he was reading a flash card that a teacher wrote) and the press is overlooking a similar mistake by President Obama. But all of these emails are sent as if they are Gospel-truth and the senders are passionate about their point of view.

We also have all the town hall meetings. When the protesters shouted down the elected officials discussing going to war in Iraq under President Bush one party embraced the protests and encouraged them. Now that people are protesting the current President's health care reform plan that same party is calling the protesters "un-American".

I don't care which side of the fence you fall on with respect to health care reform, nothing could be more American that political discourse. These debates that are currently springing up could not be MORE American.

But why do we have to take sides in quite this manner? Can't we all talk about the issues and try to meet in the middle?

Our current health care system has flaws. Anyone that disagrees with that is just being disagreeable. It costs too much, insurance is too expensive for we what we get, and malpractice lawsuits are a off the charts.

But should the government be providing it? I'm part of the generation that is pretty sure we'll never see the Social Security benefits that we will have paid for over 40 years so having another government program to nationalize health care doesn't mean a whole lot. And where in our Constitutional rights does it say that health care is a universal entitlement?

I have to say that I'm proud of both sides of our Houses for not rushing the vote on health care reform before going on vacation for the month of August. I'm very glad to see some actual thought going into this decision and the town hall meetings are inspired. Elected officials actually meeting with, and hopefully listening to, their constituents. As long as it isn't just lip service I will be impressed. I am a realist, though, so I'm reserving judgment for the moment.

It just seems that we've gotten really far from the original intent when this country was founded. All the processes were put in place to prevent one person from having absolute power. Now, it seems that one side pushes for that absolute power - as long as it is "their" guy.

So, whether you are patriotic or un-American all depends on your view. Whether or not you are a hero or villain; whether we all make it to the Promised Land or go to Hades in a handcart - all depends on your view.

I wish we could all be thinkers, listeners. Bring all the ideas to the table in a collective effort. Have our representative spend some time talking to those they represent to see what thoughts they would like presented. So many things that could be done differently, better.

And all of it would still be in the spirit of the original intent of those wonderful men who had a plan, a dream, a vision of a better government.

Men with a view.

There's Lives at Stake Here People!

When most of us chose our career paths it was based on something in which we excelled or for which we felt a passion. I realize some people aren't that lucky and have to accept whatever job they can find or qualify for or that is available.

I also understand that sometimes employers are left hiring someone that may or may not be the most optimal for the job.

But come on, if you are going to accept a job where you have the lives of others in your hands I have a certain level of expectation. I may be one of those people.

How many news stories do we have to hear about major mass transit accidents that are the result of the operators/controllers either talking or texting on their cell phones? OK, to be fair, I don't know that the air traffic controller involved in the accident of the tour helicopter and small plane was on a cell phone, but he was on a personal phone call.

Lines have to be drawn. And clearly the rules of proper behavior have to be spelled out since the drivers/operators/controllers don't seem to have the common sense necessary to understand that if you are running a passenger train, or a subway train, or any other vehicle of mass public transit then you need to leave your cell phone at home.

Period.

If I goof up at my job people don't die. They may owe more taxes or have to refund grant monies or they may get a refund with interest but they live to see another day. And we aren't permitted to use our cell phones at work.

Cell phones have their place, don't misunderstand me. I resisted the urge to get one for a long time and one week after I finally gave in I was traveling alone (although there were 3 dogs with me so I wasn't alone but rather without assistance) from Little Rock to Kansas City and had a flat tire in the foothills of Missouri. I was about 20 minutes over the Arkansas/Missouri state line, which is to say I was in the middle of nowhere. In that situation the cell phone was a godsend.

But back then all you could do on a cell phone was make phone calls. Now you can check your email, trade stocks, take pictures, shoot a video, email that to your buddies, text your friends, leave your grocery list on a voice memo, play games, and listen to music.

Do everything except really and truly connect with people.

I have posted before that I am fairly "into" all this electronic stuff. I have Facebook, Twitter, Zannel, and MySpace pages; ipods, and a BlackBerry and Palm graveyard as I upgrade with technology but I do try to be mindful of talking while driving. My car is bluetooth-equipped so it will answer my phone for me if it rings and I can talk hands free. But this is the first car I've had that did so.

I'm not perfect and I know I'm not. I've done stupid stuff while driving and gotten lucky. But, as I said, I really do try not to. But driving strangers and running mass transit vehicles is not my job.

I guess I'm just truly fascinated that these people have to be told to not take their cell phones on the trains, or to let someone else (untrained) drive the trains. They are holding our lives in our hands, literally, and I expect better.

Dancing In The Rain

A friend of mine used the following for her Facebook status the other day: "Life is not about waiting for the storms to pass, it is about learning to dance in the rain".

She told me I could use it. She had "borrowed" it from someone else. So it is uncredited, and I hope I got it right. I'm pretty sure I at least got it close to correct.

While I was thinking about this earlier this afternoon I discovered a companion phrase. A couple of years ago I had to give up watching "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition" because I ended up crying through most of it. It became too draining. But I stumbled on a rerun episode today and watched it. And yes, I cried. But that is beside the point.

In this episode a husband and father of four died at a young age of cancer. The design team built a memorial bench and inscribed one of his signature phrases. "There are plenty of things to think about, but nothing to worry about." I believe his name was Matt Keopke.

To me, the two sentiments go together. So much in our world is out of our control. Out of our hands. So why worry? Will it change anything? Probably not. To me, not worrying is an example of learning to dance in the rain.

Life brings storms. It could be health issues, job worries, marital problems. Any of these and so many other things can be the storms in our lives. Life is all about how you handle those "storms".

Another phrase I particularly like starts like this: "Life is not about the destination, it is about the journey." There are lots of endings to the phrase but I like the beginning. I know there are folks who will disagree. To them life is all about getting to Heaven some day so it is about the destination - and the journey. You can only get there by living a good life. But I still want to focus on the journey.

Dance in the rain. Sitting around and fretting about things you can't change won't actually get you anywhere. Can actually make things worse. Learn to roll with the punches. Take what you're handed and make lemonade, or margaritas, or lemon chess squares; whatever makes you happy.

And don't wish for the storm to pass too quickly. Often the turbulent times in our lives are when we learn the most about ourselves. Something inside, our true nature, gets revealed when we are faced with problems or adversity. We sometimes get to see ourselves as others see us, or how we want to be.

We get handed many opportunities in the course of a lifetime to watch the storm clouds gather. We can hear the thunder off in the distance. You have a choice. Sit back and wait. Someone else will take care of the problem or it will resolve itself in time. Or dance. Kick off your shoes and get out there.

Dance.

Which makes me think of another quote. I'm not sure of the whole thing, but part of it says "Dance like no one is watching."

Thank You Danny Ward

In March of 1988 I met a man that would eventually change my life.

Danny Ward knew my sister from the softball fields. Many of her friends played ball and she hung out there a lot. Now, I have no idea how Danny knew about me or anything but my sister told me he wanted to take me out. She said he was a very nice guy. I had just broken up for the second, and final, time with a guy that I'd been involved with since I was 15 (I was now 21, almost 22). The first time we had broken up I was devastated. The second time was at my choice so I was ready to meet other people.

I wasn't looking for anything long-term or permanent, just wanted to have some fun before my college days were over and work would start.

So we went out and had a nice time. Very casual and relaxing evening. I think we went bowling.

Then he called again asking me to come watch a ball tournament being held in the town where I attended college over the upcoming weekend. I truly didn't want to go. Hanging out at ball fields was not my cup of tea, I didn't want Danny to get the wrong impression that I was more interested in him than I was, and that weekend was orientation weekend for incoming students and parents and as a Student Host I had to be ready to "work" at like 6:30 on Saturday morning. Just seemed like a good idea all the way around to just skip the ballgames.

Then I read an article in a women's magazine that simply said if you have no other plans and are asked out you should go. You might actually have a good time and it beats staying home to do nothing. So my roommate and I went but we didn't really watch the game. And then I got talked into going Saturday after my Student Host duties were over. I was so tired from being up the previous night late and getting up early that I literally dozed through that ballgame. They had to wake me when it was over.

As I'm putting my lawn chair in the back of Danny's car I see a glimpse of red out of the corner of my eye and turned to looked. Driving that cherry red IROC Camero was one of the best looking men I had ever seen. All I could do was look.

We pull into the fast food restaurant for lunch and there's the guy again. I start asking questions at this point. Turned out he was on Danny's team and only went by a nickname so Danny didn't know his real name.

I know now that I didn't handle this situation very well, but I started hanging out at the ball field. It took me 6 weeks before I finally convinced this man that I was not in any exclusive relationship and could certainly go on a date with him.

Once he started to get the hints and "see the light" he walked up to me one Saturday afternoon at a ballgame and announced - "I'm going to marry you."

And 20 years ago today, he did.

We hadn't even had our first date yet when he made that declaration. And it wasn't a question or a musing. It was a declarative sentence.

That was in late May 1988. The first weekend of August 1988 we were looking at engagement rings. You see, even though I answered his statement with "You don't even know me. Maybe you should get to know me first" and all kinds of warning bells were going off in my brain, it didn't take me long to know that he was The One.

On December 21 I came home from the grocery store to fix dinner for the two of us and we nearly got into a knock-down-drag-out over the star on my Christmas tree being crooked. He kept telling me that it being off-kilter was bothering him. I kept pointing out that he was almost as tall as the tree and he could very easily straighten it if it was bothering him that much. After much back and forth and me seriously getting angry I finally grabbed a chair from the kitchen table, stomped over to the tree and climbed up.

And there it was. My engagement ring was hanging on one of the top branches, just sparkling in the tree lights. I hadn't known that he'd gone back and bought it. He was working, at that time, for a manufacturing company and barely made minimum wage so it had taken him from August until then to pay for it.

That is one of the reasons why I'll never trade it in for anything bigger or fancier or anything like that. This ring is extra special.

Most people in the church on that hot August afternoon probably wouldn't have laid odds that we'd last six months. We were just about as opposite as two people could be in just about every aspect of our lives. But we loved each other and that was all that we could see that mattered. Everything else would work itself out.

And it has.

The last 20 years have been wonderful. There were some very tough times and a couple of instances where we almost called it quits. But those are the normal bumps that marriages go through. We worked on them and came out stronger on the other side. He has stood beside me through some incredibly difficult times. I can say unequivocally that I wouldn't have made it without him.

So, to my Rock, Right-hand, and any other adjective you can think of, I say thank you. Thank you for all that you do and all that you are. I pray every night that we get many many more years together. Thank you for making me the happiest woman.

And thank you Danny Ward for inviting me to that first ballgame. Things might have gotten a little awkward that summer and you never intended to play matchmaker, but you did. And I thank you.

Old Friends, New Faces

No, I'm not implying that any of my classmates have had plastic surgery.

It was really wonderful to see old friends the other night. I was sorry I couldn't see more of them. Several people went to the Friday night function instead of the Saturday night but I was unable to get into town on Friday night, so I missed them.

Most everyone looked the same. At least recognizable. The memory fails you on the names, but the faces you recognized.

You recognized them, but they were changed. You could see not wrinkles, but wisdom. Eyes that saw a different future than that of 25 years ago. Eyes that had seen a lot in the last 25 years.



Some of our classmates are ill. You could see the worry lurking behind their eyes. Others are sending their children off to college or into the world. A little apprehension, maybe, creeps into their faces when they think about the unknown.

We've almost all lost loved ones. There have been divorces and new loves. We've had classmates serve in war. We have ministers and moms, professionals and those who are still finding their way, police officers, doctors, photographers and almost everything else in between.

And it shows on our faces.

It takes a little longer to "fix" the face maybe. Might be touching up the gray on the temples. Might be doing a lot of things to make the progression of time a little less obvious. The faces are a little more tired than the ones in the 1984 yearbook.

But the eyes are hard to hide and that is where I saw the most change. All of our eyes teared a little when the slide show played. Some were tears of laughter and others sadness at the classmates already passed.

But all-in-all, a good weekend. A time for reconnection. A time for stories and sharing. A chance to realize that you aren't the only one going through something.

You have a friend.



Many friends!

I hope that we can take what we gained this weekend and run with it. Up to and past the 30th reunion.

In 1984 we had the whole world in front of us and time was just an abstract concept. Not so much any more. Time and its passage have taken on a whole new meaning.

Make the most of it. Don't waste a second!

And if you didn't make this reunion, try really hard for the next one. It was worth every second.

And none of know how many seconds we have left.