

LEIGH'S VIEWS

LEIGH LINCOLN

Published by Leigh Lincoln at Smashwords

© 2017 Copyright Leigh Lincoln

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

Views expressed in this book are entirely the author's.

FORWARD

This is a compilation of my blog posts. If you're an avid reader, you'll note many entries aren't the same. In addition, there's some new material. Enjoy!

Phones and Computers

We all have them, but do we all need them?

So, all the rage now is "Stop the texts, stop the wrecks." Yes, distracted drivers are never a good thing. It should go without saying that everyone should be doing their level best to be driving as safe as possible. However, I want to know how people are texting and driving in the first place. I mean, I've been doing a lot of traveling the last couple of years and have found myself trying to text in a moving vehicle. No, not as a driver, as a passenger. Here I'm get bumped and tossed about, as we travel along the highways and byways of this country. Meanwhile, I'm frantically trying to text a quick message. There are so many misspellings in my notes from poor thumb placement. Because of course, we hit a bump every time I try to hit a key. So, my helpful phone has corrected my sentence to absolute gibberish. Even I have no idea what I just wrote five seconds ago and I've got to start all over again. Then we hit a dead zone and the text won't send. There's a stupid error message over and over again. Yeah, are we having fun yet? At least whatever my message might've been wasn't a matter of life and death. Okay, I don't think it was. But since I have no idea what point I was trying to get across, who knows? It might very well have been. Again, how can anyone do that without looking at the phone the whole darn time? How can anyone not do that without being very careful where they put their fingers? Let's get real here, anyone trying to do that and drive must think they're Superman and are invincible. Or insane. Heck, I know people who can't eat chips and drive at the same time. And that takes so much less coordination than texting. Which leads me to wonder, is the underlying problem really with distracted driving? Or something else? Do we no longer have any common sense? Have we become so dependent on technology that we can no longer think for ourselves? Is it to the point we don't know what's a good idea? I don't know but I do know that multitasking is for the birds – just say no to doing two things at once. Wait, can birds multitask? They don't even have hands...

*****

D on't you just hate it when you go to log into your favorite website and they inform you you've got to change your password? You've had that password so long you've got children younger than it. You've had several computers, tablets, phones replaced and still been able to use it. Seriously, you think you might've had that password since the internet was invented. Or at least since that website can into being. So, why now? What did you do wrong that this company all of a sudden wants you to upset the apple cart and learn a new one? Good grief, it's going to take you months before you can log into the site on the first try. You know I'm right. You're going to automatically put the old password in and it's going to say try again. What the darn site isn't going to say is they know you're an idiot. That you're too stupid to remember something this simple as a few letters and numbers. Ugh. Okay, so how close to the old one can you make the new one? Then it'll be at least a bit easier to remember, in theory at least. Because, yeah, never gonna happen. Um, the last one was unicorn123 so the new one can be unicorn234. Yes, that'll do the trick. It only is off by one number. No, no, no, they want you to use a capital letter now. And a special character. And it can't use any letters or numbers from the first one. What nonsense, you just want to buy a movie, or a new coffee maker, or...

*****

Okay, I give up. I've officially joined the rest of the world in the smartphone craze. I had to admit I've got to stop doing things the old way and move into the modern era. It was a long road to get me to this point but I've made the journey. Yes, as of yesterday, I'm the sort-of proud owner of a smartphone. Now I understand when I see people screaming at their phones what's going on. Even though they obviously aren't having a phone conversation, they still are yelling at something, someone. I was beginning to think the whole world had gone crazy. But no, it was something else. Yes, I now know they're talking to the phone itself. Wow. Who knew? Yeah, yeah, everyone on the planet except me. So, I can now have a lovely conversation with my phone and ask her all sort of interesting questions. Like - How do I get to my favorite restaurant? Where is New York City? And, miracle of miracles, she'll tell me. But can a phone answer those truly important questions in life? You know those ones that have destroyed marriages. Caused wars to break out. Give us meaning and purpose. Those big issue questions. Like - Do these jeans make my butt look fat? Do we invade this country or that one? Should I be a garbage man or a doctor? Ah well, who cares, it's just too darn much fun talking to this phone to worry about the bigger things in life. If you need me, call me, I may answer or I may not, depends on what interesting answer the phone has just found for me. Better yet, wait for me to call you, I can ask the phone to do that if I want – and I probably won't want to...

*****

So, I've been a smartphone user for about a month now. I had thought it would make me more likely to post to Facebook and Twitter because I could do it anytime I wanted to. I thought I would be more diligent about checking email because, again, I could do it anywhere, anytime. But, no, old habits die hard. Or the two percent rule has kicked me in the butt. If you don't know what that is – You have to be two percent smarter than the thing you're trying to operate. Not saying a smartphone is smarter than me or anything. Sure, it was fun for a while talking to the thing, but now the novelty has worn off. I'm left wondering why everyone is so addicted to these things. I saw a report that said it's the stupid bing that happens when you get a message, post, etc. Yet, I've never felt the need to check my phone when those bings happen unless I'm expecting a message. Thus, I've come to the conclusion that I'm just not normal. Or am I the only normal person left and all of you are the ones with the problem? Who knows, but I'm going to keep trying to do better about joining the rest of the world and using this smartphone more. Just in case I'm the abnormal one, I don't want to be left out of anything...

*****

I've come to the decision that there are just not enough options for bings on a smartphone. You know those little bings when you've got an incoming text message and whatnot. Either that or not enough people change them. One day, in a rare moment when the music wasn't blaring at my favorite coffeeshop, the air was filled with bings. It was then I realized how many of those stupid phones were going off. How do people who are sitting close to each other know it's not their phone? Is it like when a mom can tell which baby crying is hers from across a crowded room? It was horrible, it was almost a relief when the overly loud music suddenly was turned back on. Now how in the world are over half the people on this planet addicted to that sound? I find my occasional bings annoying. I really mean that, I often turn my phone on mute. Even then, the vibration is enough to drive me crazy. Thus, I've been known to leave the thing at home. In a closet. Where it's safe and unheard from for day. But I'm getting off track here. Anyway, back to my story. Therefore, a whole room full of these bings was enough to drive me round the bend. Pavlov may have been right about conditioning but I guess I'm immune. Or a message every now and then isn't enough to get me excited. But, boy is everyone else only too happy to grab their phone when they hear that sound! That chirpy little beep would go off and half the room was looking and/or grabbing for their phones. It's time to cut the cord, no that's not the right word. There's no cord on a cell phone. Fine, let's just smash them all to bits and go back to the dinosaur days where phones were locked in place. We couldn't carry them around with us and we had a few moments of peace and quiet every day. We could be unavailable for a few minutes, hours, days...

*****

I had the opportunity to spend most of the day at a college campus recently. Depending on how you look at it, it was either a really good day or a really bad day to be there. You see, the internet was down for not only the campus but for most of the town as well. Not sure why, I never bothered to ask. I'm not addicted to the internet. But here these students were, at a loss for what to do. As one student put it, as she was randomly pushing buttons on her phone, "I can't talk to anyone!" Well, last time I checked you don't need the internet to place a phone call. But I guess she only uses all those app things to communicate. Others were lamenting as to why the universe was torturing them. You see this was coming on the heels of losing power during a recent hurricane. As another student aptly stated. "Sixty hours without power last week and now at least twenty-four without the internet. I'm dying here!" Good to know he had his priorities straight. As the morning wore on, there were students napping. Others were playing card games. Others looking as bored as anyone can possibly be. As in, I've seen dead people who were more excited about life. Then word started to spread that several professors were canceling their classes. Why? Because they couldn't access their fancy presentations stored on the cloud. Well, call me old fashioned, but since when does a teacher not know their subject matter well enough to be able to teach a lesson on the fly? And without the benefit of fancy technology? So, can you live a day without power and not feel deprived? Can you not use any technology for a day? Maybe we need to rethink this dependence on things. Maybe instead we should try being focused on real human interactions. Have a face to face conversation with people rather than text or email. Oh, of course, someone is going to ask if there's an app to show them how to do that...

Food

So many choices, so many traditions...

I was having dinner with a friend the other night. Towards the end of the meal, he encouraged me to have a little bit more. He said he was going to throw away the leftovers anyway. I was stunned, to me this is unthinkable behavior. You just don't throw away perfectly good food - there are starving children in Africa. And China. And I'm sure more places than I can count. Thus, since there wasn't much left, I scarfed it down even though I was already stuffed to the point of being in pain. But it's interesting what's 'normal' to some people. I know people who buy in bulk, make huge meals and use every leftover until it's gone. No matter how tired of that particular meal they may be by the time they're finished eating it seventy times. They're world class scroungers, buying nothing new unless they absolutely have to. Others view this as odd behavior. They would never pinch a penny until it screamed. These people happily throw away leftovers. They buy everything new, even things they don't really need it in the first place. Yes, for the most part, if we truly look at someone else we could find something about their life that we find 'weird.' For the simple fact they aren't us. So, stop trying to be 'normal'. Embrace the 'weird' and use your opposite hand today. Do something unexpected, out of the ordinary, uncharacteristic of you. I certainly should've the other night at dinner, it wasn't good to overeat like that. I was unable to eat breakfast the next morning. Plus, it's not like I could've sent that food to the starving kids around the world. So, who cares if I wasted a little bit of food? Yeah, yeah, I do. Maybe next time I should bring my own doggy bag...

* ****

I was having dinner again with my friend who hates leftovers. And I, as usual, licked my plate clean. Okay, not literally, but I didn't leave a crumb behind. He looked at me, looked at my plate, looked at his plate which had a few stray pieces of food and began to shake his head. "It's sad you grew up hungry in this country." Wait, what? I clean my plate because my mother always said there were starving kids somewhere. Kids who would love the disgusting gruel we had sometimes. I clean my plate because some food is so good, I have to savor every last bite. I clean my plate because it's a habit. But since this issue has come up before and this was a new twist, I decided to delve further into his thinking. As we talked, he shared how he was taught. That to not leave a little bit of food on the plate was a sign you weren't getting enough to eat. If you ate everything his mother would put more on the plate. Ah, now I know why my friend hates leftovers and just throws them out. To me, waste not want not. To him, there's plenty more where that came from. Here I'd been thinking he was wasteful for months and he was thinking I'd grown up without any food to eat. The most interesting part of this, he has lived a good portion of his life in Cuba. Yes, that's right, Cuba. A country where poverty and starvation are normal. Yet his family somehow always made sure they had more than enough to eat. It's times like these we need to reframe how we view the world. Step back and try to understand from a perspective so alien to our own it might as well be viewing things from Pluto. And then we learn something – even if it's to not eat until you are stuffed. I don't have to clean my plate every time. I can ask him to not put so much on my plate. I can throw away a little bit of food. Who cares if there are starving kids in Africa? Not like you can ship your leftover meal to them anyways...

*****

I love ice cream. You have those basic flavors of course, vanilla, chocolate, strawberry. But you also have the more exotic fun ones. Coffee, Mexican chocolate, cardamom, jalapeno. Yes, I did say jalapeno. Most of you are thinking I don't know what I'm talking about here, but it's a real thing. The spicy bite of the peppers mixed with the sweet of the cream is one of the best flavors of ice cream I've ever had. Don't try to make it at home, if you don't do it just right it's horrible. I know most people won't even take a little bite of something like that. Me? I'll try just about anything once. After all, I was raised in a state that has Rocky Mountain oysters. If you don't know what those are, I'm not going to explain it to you. Anyway, I was at a party the other day and several people wouldn't even try the coffee ice cream. But a few who did were surprised to find they liked it. Life should be about trying every new experience, not playing it safe. Go beyond the standard vanilla. Even if you end up eating a pepper or two and get your tongue burned. You've learned something, you grown.

*****

Have you ever been to a really wild party? And by that, I don't mean everyone was drunk and doing crazy things. I mean strange things happened. Things that shouldn't be possible happened. Like the very cooked, dead and eaten lobsters deciding to make their escape. A daring trip out from the box being used as a garbage can. How they managed to wiggle enough with their cracked and ripped apart bodies to move the box even an inch is a miracle. But to move enough to make the box shake, well, let's just say wow. And to move that box enough so that it would fall of its perch on the edge of a chair, holy cow. Yeah, I guess that's one of the great mysteries of life. But they were willing to let their guts be spilled on the floor to get to freedom. Was our conversation not stimulating enough for them? Were we not funny enough? Or was it simply that enough was enough? I don't know what triggered the great lobster escape but I think we need to ramp up our party style next time. We can't keep letting the food try to escape on us, now can we? Yeah, none of us want to end up on our hands and knees scraping up lobster guts ever again. Not a fun way to end an evening - unless you're the one sitting and watching everyone scramble to clean up the mess...

But I've also been to parties were glasses jump off the table. Leaving a puddle of something with glass shards under someone's feet. Why do glasses suddenly just take a flying leap? I mean, I know that glass is a liquid not a solid. Thus, technically, it's always moving anyway. But to move far enough to slide off a table on its own? A friend of mine tried to convince me there's a scientific reason for all of the weird things I've seen in life. Take those flying glasses, it's the condensation on the table according to him. A little tap anywhere on the table and the glass will go boom. But I think some things are best left unexplained...

*****

I was out to dinner with someone the other day and we were enjoying a pleasant conversation as we awaited our meal. When our plates heaped with food arrived, we each dove into our respective dishes. However, my companion immediately commented the food wasn't as expected. Then he went on to explain the dish should've been prepared in such and such a way. All because that was the way he'd tried it first and now always expected it to be the exact same way. I tried to explain how unreasonable this position was. Most complex recipes have multiple variations. How many chefs will tinker with dishes based on personal taste. This dish in particular was one I've seen made several ways. Based on regional preferences and seasonal availability of ingredients, the variety is amazing. But he refused to listen to my rational and was rather unhappy with the meal. As I think back on this encounter now, I wonder if he has the same expectations out of life. Things must go a certain way. Anything unexpected or unusual is greeted with disdain or unhappiness. But how boring would life be if everything always had the same outcome? Nothing out of the ordinary ever happened? The pattern never changed? And why get upset if something isn't what you expect? Variety is the spice of life after all. Some of the best experiences of all come out of the most unusual moments, things we never saw coming. So, embrace the unexpected. See where each twist takes you. You may find that what's best isn't the same old same old.

Lemonade

As the saying goes, "When life hands you lemons, make lemonade." But does life also hand you the sugar and water that you also need?

A friend of mine gets nothing but lemons out of life yet always seems to seems to come out a winner every time. Let me give you an example. My friend ordered a bike from a retailer, who shall remain nameless to protect the very guilty. The bike was to go to the store, not her home, so said retailer could put it together for her. To her surprised the 'bike' arrived at her home the day before it was supposed to be delivered to the store. Being the person that she is, she said "Fine, I'll put it together." Only problem was, it was a fifty-inch TV not a bike. Which is rather funny since my friend lives in a house with no utilities. Okay, that's another lemon in her life and is a story for another day. Anyway, she could never use said TV. After speaking to the retailer, their claim was nothing had been delivered to her home. According to them, the bike was still on the way. Concerned that the retailer would charge her credit card for the TV, she called her bank. Her bank said after so many days if the retailer didn't pick the TV up it was hers to keep. Either way, the retailer couldn't charge her for it. Well, needless to say the retailer never picked the TV up and she sold it for more than she had paid for the bike. So, back to the bike. It never got to the store or her house over the course of the next several days and the retailer agreed to resend it. Finally, a month, six promised delivery dates and a lot of help from her bank later the bike arrived at her house. In pieces, of course. Her bank reversed the charge on her card because of the huge delay. Thus, the bike was free. Okay, better than free, since she had sold the accidental TV. Then two weeks later, the retailer contacted her. They wanted to know the details about the less than ideal experience with her order. After she answered their questions, they sent her an email with electronic gift cards in it. Therefore, she ended up feeling like she had been paid hundreds of dollars. All to take a bike off the retailer's hands and put it together. So what if she had to wait a month? How about you – would you have canceled the order when the TV showed up and called it a day? Or after the first or second delivery date? If you had you would have missed out on half of the blessings from this disaster. Do you truly get the most out of each day? Do you wait in eager anticipation to see what will happen next? Can you really make lemonade out of life?

*****

So, here's another saga from my friend who only gets lemons from life. Several months ago, she slipped and fell on the wet bricks while crossing the street. Yes, there's a street that is brick in her town, it's bad for not only the cars but for people as well. Anyway, she freely admits it was more than likely her fault. After all, she was rushing to beat the light while it was raining. She ended up spread eagle, face down in the middle of the street with people honking their horns at her. No, I don't know why people weren't rushing to help her. As she got up she realized her head was bleeding from a cut on her eyebrow. Thus, reaching into her bag for a napkin, she wiped her face as best she could. Then, she pinched her eyebrow back together and continued on to her destination. It wasn't until she had been there several minutes she noticed she was dizzy. After she sat down, people start telling her she needed to go to the hospital which she refused. By then the cut on her head was bleeding again and everyone was giving her no choice. Good thing they did. She had a concussion, two messed up knees and worse of all, dangerously high blood pressure. The blood pressure problem was probably from the pain she was in. However, the hospital staff was very concerned about the very real possibility of her having a stroke. She spent the next six hours in the ER waiting for her blood pressure to come down. And so, she limped around on two bad knees, with an obvious glued together eyebrow for the next few weeks. Of course, people would ask what happened. She would simply smile and say "Well, I kissed the bricks on Broad Street." Unless pushed for more details, she told the whole diagnosis to only a few. She still is having problems with one of her knees but almost no one knows it since she's not complaining about it. Because that's how she views life, with joy to be here for this moment no matter what life throws her way. While others get a hangnail and think they're dying. So, which type are you? Do you make a joke out of something serious or over-dramatize something minor? There are some things that are just not worth making a fuss over.

*****

 Ever have one of those days? You know the ones where you go to the closet for the outfit you planned to wear. Only to discover the pants you thought were clean aren't? So, oh well, pick another outfit and on to the shower you go. Once in the shower you discover you're out of shower gel. Okay, then you aren't going to smell quite as fresh today as you wash with only water. Then your hair doesn't cooperate as you're trying to style it. You're left with a whispy, flyaway mess. No time to try to fix it. Finally, you stick yourself in the eye with the mascara wand. You now have a red eye to complete your less than stellar ensemble. Wow, and you haven't even set foot out of the house yet. Next, you head to the Dr.'s office to let the vampires have a go at you. All because you need to have some blood-work done for your physical the next day. The nice nurse informs you you need an EKG as well. Great, you're so stressed out and running so late, you're sure that EKG is going to be wonky. Of course, you haven't had breakfast yet and about the time you get to work you realize you forgot your lunch. Makes sense that you forgot it because you were so distracted. What between everything that happened at home and the stop at the Dr.'s along the way. Then a coworker yells at you because you forgot the donuts. Yes, you were supposed to grab donuts since the donut shop is right next to your Dr.'s. And, what, you've been at work all of five minutes at this point. Yeah, this is one of the few times if I found you having a nap at your desk I would forgive you. But good for you for not giving up and going back to your nice comfy bed. Yeah, for not saying to yourself, 'I'll try this again tomorrow'. You're just like those flowers who somehow manage to grow in the gravel parking lots. You're someone who knows there's always someone worse off. If you've had the day I've just described I'm not sure who but hey I'm sure you can find someone out there who is...

*****

This morning there was smoke in the air. It was hanging in the air so thick it seemed to be clinging to the moss hanging from every tree on my early morning walk. The sharp smell was burning my nose, making my eyes water. Not a good start to my day, not the way I prefer to wake up. No birds were chirping – I guess even they don't like the smoke in the air. They must've taken off for some place better. But I kept at it, this habit of mine is so ingrained. My brain and muscles kept screaming 'Must walk!' My random, aimless, early morning walk has become one of the highlights of my day. While I walk alone, I'm not exactly alone. Most days I pass by many others I've come to know since I moved to town. We wave and shout "Hi!" - sometimes stopping for a longer chat. But today, I see no one else. Finally, I see this sinkhole only moments before I fall into in to it. Though I haven't walked as far as I normally would, I take it as a sign I've had enough for the day. As I walked home, I realized this walk was a metaphor for how my week had gone. Nothing had worked out well, bad news followed more bad news. So, I'm going home but not to mope. Because, tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow the sun will be bright and not shaded by smoke. Tomorrow I won't be alone. Tomorrow there won't be a hole to fall into. Today, I think I'll just go back to bed...

*****

 I'm the eternal optimist. I believe things will always get better. I think everyone deserves a second, third, fourth chance. I think there's no wrong that can't be undone (okay, maybe murder can't be). There's hope in every situation. I'd rather laugh than cry, even when I'm in serious pain. Thus, I tend to gravitate towards people who are the same way. So, when I find someone who's a dyed-in-the-wool pessimist, I feel it's my mission in life to change them. I feel this deep compulsion to not let them continue to wallow in their misery. But my bright, bubbly outlook is often looked at with revulsion. Especially by those who would rather say the sky is gray rather than blue. Right now, I have this friend who's going through something horrible medically. He's deeply unhappy, worried and losing hope. I'm trying so hard to pull him through this, make him laugh, make him relax. He keeps telling me I'm crazy for being so optimistic, for saying one never knows what tomorrow will bring. He's sure he knows, he's sure it's bad. Then last night, I had a tiny breakthrough. I was teasing him about the junk food he was eating. And he teased me back about me eating healthy – saying I was the one who was going to end up dying first. It was a spark, only a small glimmer. Yet, I think I might be getting through to him...

*****

Ever have one of those days? You go to the doctor's office, you sit and wait. Only to find out there's been an emergency and they'll get to you when they can. Never mind the fact you made this appointment months ago. So, you finally get seen and get handed a prescription. Okay, off to the pharmacy you go. Only to discover that everyone and their mother apparently is sick at the same time. Half of your town must be there waiting for medications. You wait your turn to drop off the prescription, tell the girl you'll wait for it. She says they'll call you. You go sit on those awful chairs and fall asleep. How this happened you don't know. But at some point later, someone bumps into you. This wakes you and you realize the entire cast of characters in the store has changed. Fine, you get in line to see if your prescription is ready. Even though you don't remember hearing them use the intercom once, still you are going to check in. When it's your turn, this second girl tells you they tried to call but got no answer so left a message. You look at your phone, nothing. You politely ask at what number, since the first girl had never asked for a number you have no idea where they called. She rattles off a land line number you had years ago, in another state. Great, now some random stranger knows you have a prescription ready. And knew it before you, who had been sitting (okay, sleeping) in the store. You don't bother to correct the mistake at this point. Most of your day has already been wasted and you know you still need to head to the grocery store before going home. At the grocery store, you pick up most of the items you need before going to the milk section. Only to discover there is no milk. Not as in your favorite type is missing, 2%, whole, or skim, but none at all. There is caution tape over the case and a note saying something to the effect of try again tomorrow. So much for making what you had planned to make for dinner. Finally, at home, you flop on top of the bed with your laptop and phone trying to catch up on some work. But exhaustion wins and you set the laptop aside, turn off the light and fall asleep fully clothed. Then this noise wakes you, after a moment you realize it's the beep your phone makes when you get a text. Struggling to find your glasses, you read the message with sleep blurred eyes. It's about then you realize it's midnight. The text makes no sense but you reply anyway. Your friend eventually asks why you're up so late. You honestly say because you were sleeping with the phone. Your friend has no idea what kind of day you had, why you're half snuggled with the comforter fully dressed. You debate if you should go get some PJs on, strip naked or just roll back over. You roll back over, back into blissful oblivion.

*****

What do you do when what you were wishing for doesn't come true? When you're now faced with the realization that what you want more than anything will never come to be? Sometimes it's something little, that new dress doesn't come in your size. But sometimes it's something big like that dream job. We all grieve in different ways for different things – loss is loss, pain is pain - no matter who you are. It's what you do with that grief that makes the difference. Wallowing in self-pity gets you nowhere, crying as you try to stumble on gets you nowhere fast. But sometimes it feels so good to cry for a moment as you reflect on why you wanted that dream in the first place. Then your eyes are clearer to see where you need to go next, what the next dream should be. Sometimes a dream has to die for you to get something even better then you ever thought you wanted. Because sometimes you get so wrapped up in the dream, you don't see how limited you let yourself be by it. You don't see how it's tied you to one spot, one idea. No, sometimes you need the freedom to see something much greater...

*****

I was talking to someone about why she no longer rides a bike. She stated that she had to strain so hard to get up hills. Then those few moments of rest going downhill were not worth the effort. Wait, what? Did she think she could ride only downhill? How ridiculous would that be, the whole world being slanted in the direction we wanted to go? Would there be a lever somewhere we could operate to make hills disappear? Or did she think this was like skiing – there would be someone or something there to tow us uphill? But even in skiing, you end up walking awkwardly up hills sometimes. Or did she think she could find some magical place that was all flat? But, no, even that would require work. Doubt she would like that either. The whole idea made me want to laugh at her, but of course I didn't. As I got to thinking more about this, I realized life is like her idea of biking. So many don't want to do anything but coast along. Yet, so many of life's beautiful moments come after we've worked so hard to overcome some obstacle. Those bumps which come in our way when we least expect them. We can look back at the hill or mountain we had to scale and say, "I did that." So, don't look for a way around the hill, tackle it and be ready for the challenge. Each one will make you stronger and better able to handle the next one that comes along.

Around the house

Sure, what could go wrong here?

I know this couple who's remodeling their house. The work's going great, the house is coming out to be very cute with a stylish twist. However, there's one problem they've yet to address. All of the outlets and lights are on one breaker. You might not realize how big of an issue this is. Trust me, it's one of the biggest problems a house can have. Well, the other day this friend and I were talking about how the work was going on her house. She was laughing about how they are constantly playing the 'what's running right now' game. If she wants to blow dry her hair, her husband can't be using the microwave. With the cold snap we've been having, she has to turn off the space heater to make coffee and toast in the morning. Forget watching TV while her husband is playing with any of the power tools. At first, I was laughing along with her as she was describing the situation. Then it hit me, why don't they just call an electrician? I mean, really how hard would it be to pull off the electrical panel, separate a few wires, add a breaker or two? Or is this a case of we don't want to know what's really hidden behind the wall? There could be a bigger problem with the wiring then only the 'everything is on one breaker.' And who wants to deal with that? After all this is an older house, they may find frayed wiring. They may find wiring that's not up to code. Who knows. But don't we do this with so many things in life – ignore the problem, hoping it will go away? Yet things don't go away. They're always there until we face facts, tackle the issue. So, here's to ripping open the door, seeing what's behind it and never looking back.

*****

The other day I found myself being the little Ms. Fix-It that I like to be. As usual, I didn't have the proper tools or parts and winged it. You see I'm a huge fan of MacGyver, the old one with Richard Dean Anderson. The new one's too sad to even talk about, yeah, don't even get me started on how many things get messed up with remakes. Anyway, as I was saying, I love MacGyver - build anything from nothing. Thus, I have this firm belief that almost any problem can be solved with a paperclip, a screwdriver and some duct tape. Sure, it doesn't work all of the time but the other day I had success. I fixed the problem with a minimum of fuss. Proud of my work, I showed the results to a friend a few hours later. Needless to say, he was less than impressed. "Sweetie..." Let me stop this story right there. Whenever a man starts a sentence to a woman with that you know he's talking down to you. Bless your little soul, you're as dumb as rocks and just stop trying to do a man's job. Okay, I'm not a professional handyman, mechanic or any other such thing. I'm a tiny little girl, with tiny little hands and the fact is I can't even hold a lot of those dumb tools. But just because something isn't perfect doesn't mean it's worthless. And I'm not just talking about my improvised repair jobs. There are people out there who think children with low IQs, birth defects, and heck just about any imperfection have no right to be on this planet. But where would we be without the Albert Einsteins, Helen Kellers, Stevie Wonders of this world? Heck, all a child needs to do to be perfect is give love in any way possible. But I'm seriously off track here, gone down a major rabbit trail. And now something else has just fallen apart - okay where are my paperclips? My duct tape? And if anyone else dares to call me 'Sweetie'...

 *****

I was working in my house the other day when someone started banging on the outside wall and yelling. Ugh, fine. I guess, I'll respond. So, I went to the front door to see what he wanted.

"Why's the door locked?" He demanded, steam coming out of his ears and nose.

Um, okay. You see, I'm in the middle of remodeling my house and have been leaving the doors and windows open to keep down the dust. However, my new neighbors have taken that as an invitation to waltz right in uninvited. Yep, they walk in without knocking or saying hi most of the time. Rude, I know but what was I going to do? But now I'm at the point in the project that I have a new front door, complete with a storm door. This storm door I can lock and still have fresh air coming in by pulling down the screen. And my neighbor was angry because he couldn't just walk into my home anymore. Even after I explained how I felt more comfortable having people knock before entering, he was still upset. And I do mean upset, like I was depriving him of the right to enter his property. I was flabbergasted. It's my house, I paid for it, not this guy. What right does he have telling me off because I want to know who's in my house? And he wasn't the only one. Several other neighbors had the same reaction once they figured out I'm now locking them out of my house. It's not like I've ever walked into their houses announced or otherwise. I'm waiting for an invitation, which it's clear I'm never going to get. Yet, how often in life do we do this – stick our noses where they don't belong? We insert ourselves into a situation because we think we know best. This happened to us, or someone we know and now we have the right to tell someone else what to do. But some things are private and are best dealt with privately. Doors have locks for a reason and I plan on using mine from now on.

*****

I recently watched someone wash the same spot over and over. No, she wasn't being obsessive. The room she was cleaning was that dirty. To the point, I had to wonder if the room had ever been cleaned since the home had been built. Scrub, rinse the sponge, scrub again, over and over again. Yet, each time the area was only slightly cleaner. Dirt, grime, grease, bug parts. Each layer slowly was removed, only to reveal another layer of something gross. It might've been easier to remove the walls and rebuild the house. Demo rather than all the constant scrubbing. How did this happen? How did someone not notice the color of the walls had changed? And not by a little, it was a zillion shades lighter under the gunk. Maybe the change was so gradual over time. A little dust here, a little grease there. Okay, I must admit, my life is like this as well. I've let little things go until they've become big things. Telling someone thank you, apologizing, doing a favor, being a good friend. Am I consistently doing things like that every chance I get? Or do I think, "I'll deal with it later." But how much easier is it to simply acknowledge things when they happen, deal and move on? Oh, if things could only be as simple as housecleaning. After all, all these people had to do was wipe down a wall every once in a while...

*****

Now I'm not from the south and am not use to cockroaches. I've seen very few of them in my life – they don't live where I'm from but I have seen a few in my travels. But now I've seen more cockroaches then I ever thought possible and they were all in one house. I'm not kidding here. This house had so many the walls seemed to be moving. Okay, I'm normally not bothered by bugs but this was horribly disgusting. I've seen houses in third world countries that were cleaner. I'm talking about houses without running water or bathrooms. Those houses were cleaner than this house right here in America. A house that had working plumbing, electricity and was in the middle of a town. I was trying to picture how people could've lived with all of these cockroaches. It was making my skin crawl as I thought about sitting in one of the chairs in the house. The chairs where these bugs were crawling in and around every bit of fabric. Thus, by extension would've been walking all over whoever was stupid enough to sit there. Yet, seeing this house was a reminder of why I'm a firm believer that poverty is about how people think and act. It's not only about how much money they have. When you give up and don't try to live in a manner which shows you have respect for yourself, then you've lost the battle. And so many have. However, sometimes it's because people keep telling those on the bottom they always will be there. So be aware of your words – they have more power than you know. You don't want to be responsible for pushing someone into giving up on cleaning house. You don't want to be the cause for someone living with a zillion cockroaches. Trust me, no one should ever live in the condition that this house was in.

*****

Have you ever seen those smart homes? You know what I mean – those homes where all the lights are run by a timer, motion detectors and an app? You don't have to flip a switch, just walk through a room and boom the lights are on. But what happens if you do something that isn't part of the normal routine? Then the lights flip off. You're left scrambling in the dark trying to find your tablet or phone to get them turned back on. After several minutes of fiddling with the app, you have success. Then you settle back in, happy that the lights are on again but five minutes later they turn back off. That's about when you realize the house is now smarter than you. You have lost control and the app is only there to give you some sense you still are in charge here. But no, you gave up all rights to your house the moment you started plugging in all these gadgets. The moment you spoke to your house and said "Night time lights." And it answered back, "Good night, ___." How many things do we do this with in life? Many without even realizing it. We simply slip into giving something up we would never dream of ever going without. Or doing something against our core beliefs. Good intentions gone wrong. A friendship that leads down a wrong path. Or something as simple as cheesecake becoming our new obsession and our weight goes through the roof. So, think carefully about even those seemingly little steps – you just don't know where they may take you. Even if it just means you can never control your lights again...

*****

Why is it in certain professions, it seems like it's okay to lie to your customers? We've all heard the stories and the jokes about used car salesman. Not sure if they are all as dishonest as they're often portrayed but there's a certain expectation there. How about contractors? I was trying to hire one to do a job, so I tried to get 4 bids. Tried being the operative word here. One guy didn't show up, just phoned in an estimate based on a similar house he'd done. Who knows how accurate that was. Oh, and by the way, was he going to phone in the job as well? You know, tell me my house was done because the house that was similar to mine was done? Yeah, no way was that guy getting the job. Another guy, who was an hour late no less, tried to get the job by scaring me. Yeah, he was telling me all kinds of wild lies about how hard it was going to be to get a permit from the city. He said only he had the political capital to get the permit. No, you can't get the job by being a bully. Even I know any homeowner can waltz into the city office and get the needed permit. Next... The third guy had been calling me all day, trying to reschedule his appointment time. I wouldn't because I had others coming to give me bids and I told him so. Each time he called, he tried to explain why his was the only bid I needed to get. Finally, he gave me a bid over the phone that was so over-inflated and then proceeded to tell me why. His reason for the high price was filled with a bunch of lies about this and that. Most people who know nothing about building would have believed in a heartbeat. But I, knowing he'd never even seen the house, knew he had no clue what he was taking about. If he had seen the house, then maybe, so I told him to not even bother to come. Finally, guy number four shows up, on time. He treats me with respect from the moment he gets out of his truck. He tells me exactly what he thinks needs to be done but this and that may be a problem as the job goes on. He doesn't give me an exact estimate, but a ballpark. He promises to show me what comes up, if anything does, as the project moves forward. Nothing he's telling me is news, this is what I've already figured out. So much of life is like this, we much be educated about what is going on around us. Or we'll end being lied to and mistreated by everyone. I tend to be too trusting of people and often get hurt. Each time I tell myself never again, then find myself in the same position over and over. Why can't I be as hard on people I meet in everyday life as I am on people I'm paying to do a job for me? I don't know, I guess I just want everyone to be my friend...

*****

 Have you ever stopped to think about how you do your laundry? Do you mix all your colors in one load? Or do you do three loads – whites, lights, darks? Do you throw sheets and towels in with clothes? Do you dry everything until they are toast? Or leave things slightly damp? Do you fold everything neatly? Or do you hang everything? Are you a sock stuffer and just grab them, throw them in a drawer? Or do you roll each pair into a cute little ball? How about towels? Fold or roll? There are more variations in laundry than probably anything else in life. For some of us it becomes an obsession – everything must be just so. But in the grand scheme of things does it really matter if your t-shirts are folded, rolled or hanging? Yes, sometimes the devil is in the details as they say. Yet, somehow, I don't think anyone has ever died because their jeans had the crease in the wrong place. Maybe I'm missing something and if I took more care with my laundry I'd be a better person. Maybe I'd have more money. Maybe I'd be the most beautiful woman in the world. Wow, now that's a lot of pressure to put on my favorite outfit...

*****

For the past few nights I've had trouble sleeping – don't know why exactly. So, I've been getting up in the middle of the night and doing yard work. Nothing big, just messing around with some weeding and planning the new garden area. Spring will be here all too soon and I want to be ready. It's a little hard to do this kind of work in the dark, I've been missing some of the weeds. When I get up in the morning, in the bright light of day the area looks a bit on the patchy side. Well, a bit more like I don't know what I'm doing when it comes to yardwork. My plot lines for where the new plants are going to be are less than straight. In addition, it's been difficult to envision the whole thing anyway. Yet, I found myself at it again this morning. Three a.m. rolled around and I was wide awake and ready to get out to the yard to take another stab at it. If the neighbors didn't think I was nuts before, they do by now I'm sure. After a while, I headed to the gym for an early morning workout. I was a bit of a mess from my labors in the yard and one of the ladies at the gym noticed. She mentions how she had been up in the middle of the night doing yard work for about a week over a month ago. Then the need to attack the yard was over and she's sleeping like a baby again. Well, it was good to know I'm not the only crazy one in town. Okay, so now you know why that yard suddenly looks amazing one day when you never saw anyone working on it. They were up all night doing it. I wonder how many of us crazy midnight gardeners there are? And if I'm going to keep doing this, I need to get some better backyard lighting.

*****

I needed to do some work around the house yesterday. But was having a hard time getting things to work out the way I envisioned them. Finally, after struggling for a while, I had to give up on my original idea and improvise. The final product's fine but not exactly what I wanted. Have you ever found your plans going awry? Nothing seems to be working, everything's coming out wrong and you just don't know what went sideways? That bookshelf in a box you bought for the weekend project is now looking like a free-form sculpture? The trip you planned is rained out? The bottom has fallen out of your perfect life? Yet, sometimes, hope comes from an unexpected source. You find out your new neighbor works at a furniture store. His whole job is putting together these bookshelves. The staycation turns out to be the best trip your family has ever had. The illness, job loss or whatever that caused you to lose what was perfect has made you see what was really most important. There's a line from an old TV show, The A-Team – "I love it when a plan comes together!" Sometimes, the plan just isn't what we thought it was going to be. And that's exactly what we need. Or what's good enough to make us not go crazy in the end.

*****

 In each new place you go there are little quirks you much learn to fit in to and adjust to the local culture. Here in the South I've discovered one of those quirks is the joys of living with evil ants. And I do mean evil. They're something on a scale just below those killer ants. You know those ones from deepest, darkest Africa or South America in the movies. You know the ones that eat people alive. These ants in the South will swarm all over your feet and legs leaving you with red welts. Anyway, I was talking with someone in the park the other day. A nice little chat, after we had run into each other as we were walking through on an enjoyable evening. It was nice to stop for a moment, catch my breath, cool down. When suddenly he grabbed my arm, jerking me as he started to run away. All the while he was yelling "Ants, ants, they're here!" Yes, I know, a rather extreme reaction to something so tiny. I merely climbed onto a picnic table. Removed my shoes and did a quick inspection of my feet and legs to make sure the little buggers weren't on me. As I was doing this, my friend was doing this crazy dance trying to escape the ants. Yet again, I was left to wonder why people around here don't carry ant spray with them. These little guys are everywhere and you know it because of all the little hills you find. These seemingly innocent little piles of sand with a hole in the middle. But looks are deceiving. Step on one and thousands of the little buggers will be crawling all over you in seconds. Thus, yesterday, I decided to do my part in the war on ants. I went to the store to buy some ant-be-gone to kill the guys in my back yard. No more walking on eggshells around my property – I'm taking control. I looked at every can, pack, gel, whatnot but they all said not for the biting kind of ant. What?! This stuff only kills the cute, harmless kind? So, I asked a store employee for help. "Sorry ma'am, the stuff to kill those ants is toxic. You have to call an exterminator." Like the other stuff isn't toxic? Okay ants, you've won this round. Until I can call a hit man to wipe you out, you can live another day or two. Wait, will a flamethrower work? Now where can I buy one of those...

*****

I spent much of the weekend whacking through a jungle. Okay, sure, it was just the weeds and overgrown trees of someone's backyard. But I don't know how long they had allowed it to grow unchecked. I was working without the proper tools – at least it seemed like it given the enormity of the task. What are the proper tools when dealing with vines as big around as your arm? A machete seemed like overkill in the middle of town. Plus, what would the neighbors think to see me wielding that? No, don't need the police called or anything. Thus, I was using a pair of hand clippers for the smaller stuff and a hand saw for the bigger. For a while it seemed like I was getting nowhere, I would forever be stuck in the middle of this bramble. Unable to see the houses only a few feet from me, or even the sky for that matter, I quickly was losing my sense of direction. Each vine I cut appeared to grow back instantly so it could reach out and grab my arm or leg. But in the end, I was the victor. I managed to get a small hole to the outside world cut, which got bigger and bigger as I worked. When I was finished, my hands hurt from the scratches despite wearing gloves. I had a bruise on my leg from a branch that fell and my whole body was aching from the effort. Life is like that sometimes – we find ourselves in a pit and have to work ourselves out. Keep working, the end result is worth it. Even if you end up with a few cuts, bruises and heartaches along the way.

*****

Have you ever tried to do a task without the right tool? Now, I'm not just talking about home or auto repair. But, a basic simple task, like flipping pancakes? The reason I ask is that I found myself making pancakes the other day. Now this may seem normal and mundane enough. But, after I had them in the pan and they had begun to bubble nicely, I discovered a problem. And not a little one either. I had no pancake turner or even anything similar. So, there I was trying to flip these beautiful pancakes with a fork and a knife. After getting batter everywhere on the first few tries, I found the secret. Don't try to make pancakes until you've bought a pancake turner! Okay, this isn't the first time in my life I've found myself in this situation. I've moved more than once, plus had a house fire and lost everything. Thus, I should know by now to make sure I have what I need before trying to make anything in a new house. Yet, here I was making a huge mess and laughing all the way through it. It was a great reminder that perfection is never as much fun as chaos. Yet, we can't live with chaos forever. At some point, the craziness wears on us and we have to fix the problem. Or find a creative solution - in my case, tiny little pancakes which were about the size of a dime. If only all my problems could be fixed this fast...

*****

Have you ever tried to do something without the proper tools? Or better yet, without the proper tools in a total different way and setting? I had the opportunity to do exactly that twice this weekend. The first incident was no big deal. I was helping to fix a meal at someone's house. I wanted to grate some cheese but there was no cheese grater. What?! How does any normal household not have a cheese grater? Isn't that standard equipment? Fine, never mind. Okay, so I'll use a knife and improvise. The shreds I made weren't very neat and didn't melt as nice as grated cheese would've. But, hey, it's not like cheese was a life or death situation. The other situation was when I was at the beach. I had the chance to go out in the ocean in a kayak. Now I've been in a kayak before but always on a smooth lake or while going down stream – with the current. This was a whole other ballgame. The wind was creating waves and sure, I could go with the waves for a while. But then I would have to fight against them at some point to get back to my starting point. Added to this was the fact the kayak was this super light blow-up one, not the heavier fiberglass ones I'm used to. The whole thing was a bit of a learning curve that was too steep for me. So, I ended up just hugging the shoreline, afraid to go out very far. There are points in our lives where throwing caution to the wind is a good thing. Yet somehow, this didn't seem like it would be one of them. I really had no desire to meet some very nice Coast Guard people. Yet, give me some time to learn how to do something in a new way and I'm sure I'll get the hang of it. After all, we are designed to constantly be growing, learning, changing, right?

*****

 While at the beach this weekend, I picked up a pretty shell. One of those big ones that curve so you can't tell of the creature is still at home. However, the shell was cracked all the way up one side. This made me fairly confident the former inhabitant was no longer there. I placed the shell on the table while we had our pick-nick. For several hours, the shell lay there as a pretty centerpiece. It lay amongst the various beach stuff we had piled on the table. As we were packing up, all of a sudden, the shell began to move as these legs slowly emerged from the shell. Needless to say, his timing was impeccable. A few moments more and he'd have been in a sack and I'd have never know he was in the shell. As I gently placed him back in the water, I had to wonder why he was still in a shell that was so badly damaged. The edges were rough, there was that huge crack and a few holes as well. Did he have no pride of place to find something better? Or did this beat up shell feel so comfortable to him he didn't mind all the damage? Does whatever that lives in the shell have thoughts and feelings? Or was it just me projecting my personal need for everyone to have decent housing? Not like I knew how to find the little guy a better home. But it was like this when I had to leave my son alone when he became an adult. There was nothing else I could do, only trust that he would do what was best for him. If he felt a shack was what was best, there was very little I could do. He needed to make his own mistakes, find his own way, create his own path. So, okay, little creature in the broken shell, enjoy your life, make the best of it and I hope your shell doesn't get any worse.

*****

I love old houses. Not just those big, fancy ones that end up being part of tours or turned into museums. You know the ones, you've seen them in magazines, on T.V. shows. No, I'm talking everyday simple ones that people still live in. They end up a little wonky as they settle – the floors are no longer level; the corners are no longer square. And if you go to remodel one, you'll quickly learn a lot of little things about the previous occupants. Strip the paint off a bedroom door and you might find the crayon scribble from a budding artist under layer three or four. Try uncovering the sub-flooring in the kitchen. You will soon find it has become an archaeological dig. White, yellow, green, blue, and oh my goodness, is that poop brown flooring? Who thought that was a good idea? The hardwood floors show a distinct wear pattern. You can see where hundreds if not thousands of times that feet have walk back and forth around the house. See the figure eight pattern? Was that from walking the colicky baby in the middle of the night? Or maybe someone was waiting for their teenager who was hours late. Go to garden in the back yard. You'll dig up the end of a hammer, maybe a saw blade. Think of all the things that might've happened in this house. Couples first married, children raised, golden years lived. Yes, this is why, with a little bit of love, a house goes from being just another building to being a home. Something to be proud of, something with a heart, something that's part of the family. Then you've created a space in the neighborhood that others want to copy. Something that lives on even after you are gone...

*****

It used to be when you bought something it came assembled – bikes, BBQ's, toys, whatever. And in my small hometown, if you didn't have a truck they would deliver it to your house for free. But now, everything comes in boxes, tiny boxes because everything is in a million pieces. So, you lay out all of the pieces, hoping that there's nothing missing and look at the instructions. But the instructions are pictures, poorly written, or in another language. Or worse – all of the above. You stare at those parts, the picture on the box, those instructions. Maybe this is like a jigsaw puzzle, it can only go together one way. If you just start slapping things together it will make sense. In the end, you do the best you can do and hope the extra pieces aren't that important. Then you vow to never purchase anything in one of those tiny boxes with the words "Some assembly required" on it again. But you know as well as I do you will. Because nothing come assembled anymore. Somewhere, someone has decided that in this day and age, everyone must have an engineering degree. Thus, we have the skill set to build anything without assistance of any kind. Fine, so what can I build with all of the 'extra' pieces I've been saving for years? And how do I fix all the things that have fallen apart because I put them together wrong in the first place? Oh, and while we're asking for the impossible here - can I have a do over for those things in my life that I regret? Like that haircut in high school? That job with the sleazy boss? Good grief, there are just too many things to name...

*****

I hate going grocery shopping. One of the main reasons is that I always seem to forget one item. Doesn't matter if I have a list and if that item is on it or not, something always seems to get left behind. Do you do that too? Then have a feeling of dread as you look in your bags and something isn't there? Sometimes the item is something unimportant – like the jar of mayo because the one you have is running low. It's okay, you'll just have to pick it up the next time you're there. You can make other things for a few days and not rely so heavily on sandwiches. Sometimes it's something vital – like you're having a dinner party. Oops, you forgot that special ingredient for the new recipe you wanted to make. You have nothing you can substitute and now you have to go back to the store for only that one item. Meanwhile, you still have to finish cleaning the house. Plus, make the rest of the food for the party. And now your children are running amok in the house ruining what cleaning you had started. Fun, fun times. But seriously, I think grocery stores know we have short attention spans. They try to distract us on purpose. Have you noticed how they keep moving stuff around? I hate playing hide and seek trying to find where the sugar is this week. And why do they put the latest pretty, shiny, new products front and center? Wish they could put the basics there so I could just get in and out. Okay, yeah, in my case, some of it's my fault, I often shop while hungry and everything looks good to me. Next time I go shopping, I'm going to win. I'm going to get everything on my list and nothing more – but those new fancy tea drinks look so good...

Weather

Why don't you just look out the window already?

This is my first summer in the South. Despite all the dire predictions from everyone around here, I must say the weather really isn't that bad. Sure, I'm glistening up a storm – since I've been told repeatedly that ladies in the South do not sweat. But I just grab some more sweet tea. Hey, any cold drink will make you forget the heat for a few minutes. To be honest, I wish people would let me sit outside more instead of spending so much time inside. Because inside is where the air conditioning is set to artic frigid. It's so bad I've started to wear sweaters. Like thick wool sweaters. Okay, okay, I think the heat outside would fry my computer so maybe not the best of ideas when I'm trying to work. But whenever I ask anyone if they would like to sit outside the response is no, either because of the heat or the bugs. Neither of which seem that bad to me. I guess it's all in what you are used to, what you think is acceptable, and how many bug bites is one too many...

*****

Ah, winter is over. It's early March, spring is in the air. People are coming out of hibernation and flocking to the streets for the first outdoor concert of the year. There's a buzz in the air as people greet friends they haven't seen in ages. New friends are made as everyone is bonding over the good vibes of the music. Yet, the chill in the air is slightly dampening the mood. Many are huddling closer and closer together for warmth. Thus, at the break, most of the crowd heads for the coffeeshop for a hot beverage or two. As the evening goes on, children and adults alike are adding more layers. Yep, it's a whopping sixty something degrees and everyone is shivering. Now that I have survived a winter in the South, everyone is asking me how I fared in the cold. What cold? The lowest temp I've seen was in the low thirties – hardly winter weather. From what I hear, it only snows around here once every thirty years or so. To be honest, I still can't figure out why people shiver when it's below seventy outside. After all, they turn the air conditioners high enough for it to be colder than that inside. Yeah, by the time you read this, I'ill be back to basking in the wonderful sunshine of a seventy something degree day. Enjoying every minute and trying not to get fried. Really wish I didn't burn so easily...

*****

 What is it about weather that's so fascinating? We always talk about, to friends, to neighbors, to random people on the street. It's often the first words out of our mouths when we greet others. "Can you believe the weather we're having?" When we talk on the phone to someone in another part of the country we ask about how it is there. Okay, I'll admit there's some interesting weather out there – take thundersnow. Don't know what that is? Well, it's a thunderstorm with snow instead of rain. Yup, rather wacky. But what's more interesting, at least to me, is how people react to weather. Ask someone from Miami what a fifty-degree day is like and they'll say frigid. I should know. I've been to Miami on a day when it was in the fifties. People were dressed in parkas, scarves, boots, hats. You would've thought there was ten feet of snow on the ground. But ask someone from Canada and they'll say mild. I've seen that one too. They'll be in shorts and a t-shirt. Running around without a care in the world. It's all what you know and are used to. So, over the last few days, I've watched people here in the south bundle up. And I do mean bundle. It's like they are preparing for the worst blizzard ever. All because it was going to close to freezing for overnight lows and highs in the forties and fifties. I'm wondering what all the fuss is about. Coming from a state where below zero temps in the winter isn't uncommon, I'm not even wearing a coat. Okay, I'm wearing a sweater when I go outside. It's the only surrender I'll make to this almost winter. However, when the heat and humidity hits in the summer, I may be the one who is dying. I may even start complaining about the weather. Who knows, I may like it as much as I'm liking the no snow.

*****

Why are sidewalks rivers every time it rains? Does this happen where you live? In the town I live now, it rains – a lot. For the most part I walk everywhere I go, and I don't mind it. Exercise is good for me, keeps me young. Except when it rains, then walking isn't a good idea. The other night I was slogging home, trying to avoid the worst of the rushing water. In order to this, I must walk on the berms under the trees. However, the tree limbs are constantly trying to reach out and grab my umbrella. So, while my feet are drier my back is getting wet. Thus, I'm now cursing not only the poor sidewalk design but the fact the trees aren't trimmed. Let's face it, if the limbs are reaching me they're way to low – I'm short. Okay, then there's the problem of what to do at intersections. There the water can be knee high, running as fast as any white-water rapids and ice cold. By the time I've waded through that, I'm now wet pretty much from head to toe. Thus, I laid in bed the other night, massaging my legs and feet that were as wrinkled as prunes from getting so wet. And I got to thinking – 'who designs sidewalks?' Whoever does must've never walked on a sidewalk in the rain. The way they funnel the water is better than any wadi I've ever seen. Or maybe there's some reason for this that I'm not seeing? Maybe I'm the only crazy person who walks in the rain?

Coffeeshop interactions

Yes, I spend too much time hanging out in coffeeshops! But I learn so much...

 Ever since the New Year started people keep asking me what my resolutions are. Then they happily babble on about the wonderful resolutions they've made. Now I don't make resolutions. I see no point in wasting even a second on the stupid things. Not when everyone knows that no one ever keeps them more than a minute anyway. So, I was at my favorite coffeeshop one day in January, standing in line. Debating about getting the small or the medium fattening drink with the extra whipped cream. After all, I only gained two-ish pounds over the holidays. Not like I really need to be worried about my calorie intake here. Then a friend of mine walks in. She starts rattling on about the skinny whatever drink she's going to get. And all about how her resolution is to lose the eight-ish pounds she gained over the holidays. Oh, and the extra twenty-ish she's been lugging around for years. Finally, she proudly states this is her resolution every year. Okay, I've only known this woman a few months but every time I've seen her I swear she's got a donut or cake in her hands. Well, not today of course, no today she's got this darn resolution. But it doesn't seem to me that her health is much of a priority, it's just all talk, all show for the first of the year. And since she has freely admitted she does this every year, what's the point? Who does she think she's impressing here? Thus, I left the coffeeshop with an extra-large super fattening drink. The one with as much whipped cream and chocolate sauce as they could put on it. Honesty is the best policy. And right now, I honestly don't care that I gained two-ish pounds over the holidays. Sure, my friend was giving me the evil eye the whole time I was walking out....

*****

Have you ever been part of a conversation that started innocently enough? Yet somehow ended up so wrong it was beyond hysterical? I was listening to just such a conversation the other day. It started out with a rather innocent discussion about cell phones. Mostly about which one was the most indestructible cell phone. There were many points in favor of this phone over that one. From the sounds of it, much of this was because of all of the news about the phone that can explode. Not sure if any phone came out a clear winner. Not sure what these people do with their phones on a regular basis to need a phone with this kind of staying power. However, I do think it's wise for everyone to avoid those ones that have the bad batteries. No need having a phone that can start a fire. Anyway, this escalated to the point they were discussing fighter jets. Then bombs. And finally trying to destroy the world by joining two Nokia phones together. The passion that was involved as the banter flowed around the group was intense. But I had to wonder if that passion could've been put to a more productive use. Just think what real problems these people might've been able to solve, if they hadn't been so silly. Yet, aren't some of the best inventions made by accident? Post-it notes, superglue, Velcro. Maybe their silly conversation will spark a great idea. Maybe years from now I'll hear some interview where someone is explaining this great idea. And how this idea came from one crazy conversation in a coffeeshop...

*****

Have you ever been somewhere and all of a sudden someone starts dancing? Not just moving their feet a little bit. No, really dancing. Hands up in the air, body swaying, feet moving in time. No one else in the room is. But there's this one person who's just caught up in the moment, the song or life in general and letting go? People will stare, a few will snicker, a few will turn and walk away. But has the urge to join that person ever hit you? You say to yourself, who cares what others think? Yet, still you pause. Would you find the courage to join in? Maybe the two of you could start something. Maybe life is more than always being what people want you to be, doing what is expected. Maybe that one person dancing is the only normal one in the room. Maybe they are the only one who is doing what we as humans are supposed to be doing – enjoying life each moment as it comes. So, dance like you don't have a care in the world...

*****

The other day I was sitting in a coffeeshop, eavesdropping in on a conversation. It was between two young women who were pretty animated and loud. Oh, I know you're not supposed to do that but these two girls were having quite the talk. One woman had found out she was pregnant in less than ideal circumstances. As in, teen, unwed pregnancy, boyfriend nowhere to be found. However, they both couldn't have been happier. Chatting about the pregnancy and what it would be like to have a child like it was some kind of Sunday picnic. Oh, all the cute baby things. You've got to hurry up and have one also so they can play together. On and on, it was better than any soap opera. Finally, the pregnant one started talking about how she wasn't going to waste $300 on birthing classes.

"Like I need to learn how to breath!" She giggled to her friend.

Well, apparently, I wasn't the only one enthralled by this stimulating conversation. A woman at another table got up and went over to the two friends.

"Honey, as a mom of several kids, I can tell you that you don't need that class. What you need is someone who'll explain to you everything that's going to happen before it happens. Then that person needs to be in the delivery room when you have this poor baby. Because trust me, no one's going to care what you want when you start screaming. And you aren't going to know what you need when you do. Then you need a good nanny. Because trust me you aren't ready to be someone's mother." This older woman stated as she glared at these two.

The two younger women sat stunned as the older woman returned to her chair. Like is true in so much of life, these women thought they knew everything. But in fact, were only seeing one side – the side they wanted to see. Now, thanks to some random stranger, they had been confronted with some hard facts. While it may be fine to see the world through rose colored glasses, don't be oblivious. There are so many pitfalls out there. Most of them are rather obvious...

*****

 One night I had an event to attend. But rather than sit at home and living in a safe bubble for the day I ventured out into the world. I had several errands to attend to – you know the basics – post office, bank, a few shops. Nothing major, nothing to be worried about. No reason to think it would interfere with my evening plans. Not even halfway through my little chores, a bee landed on my chest. My bare chest – it was a rather warm, muggy summer day you see. So, I was wearing a top which was a little lower cut than I would normally wear. All because I wanted to be a little bit cooler. Not as in looking nicer, but as in sweating less. Not rising to the level of panic so as not to scare the bee, I gently tried to remove the little guy. However, I failed miserably and was stung in a most awkward spot. Yes, I now had a huge welt starting to form in my cleavage. Okay, I can deal with this. Ice, I need ice. Looking around, the closest place with ice was the local coffeeshop. Waltzing in, I asked for a small cup of ice. The guy behind the counter looked up for a second before his eyes slipped to my chest. Well, the expression on his face was priceless. No, I wanted to say, I'm not trying to grow another breast. As he handed me the cup of ice, he decided to throw in his two cents – tobacco and baking soda. Thanks, but no thanks, I'll stick to the ice, was my answer. As I slid a cube into my cleavage and the relief was instantaneous, his smile said it all as I turned to walk out of the shop. I guess I should've gone to the bathroom to put the ice cube where it needed to go. Later, as I was getting ready for my event, I realized the outfit I had planned to wear was out of the question. The welt was still rather obvious and no amount of make-up in the world was going to hide it. Okay, maybe I should've stayed home all day in a bubble until my event. But is playing it safe really the right way to go? Look at how much fun the guy at the coffeeshop would've missed – I do think I made his day, and maybe his year. It's not like he's going to see a woman slide an ice cube in her cleavage every day. Or at least I hope not.

*****

I was talking to someone the other day and she made the comment about what true genius is. A genius is someone who can make something complex seem simple. Take the nice barista who can make coffee using that chemex thing. That's got to be the most complex way to make coffee on the planet. Yet, somehow, he makes it look easy-peasy. Hum, that made me stop and think for several moments. Is this like what magicians do with magic tricks? Poof, the rabbit is in the empty hat? Oh, please. No way is it really that easy to appear to be super smart! I mean, let's face it, there has to be some substance there to begin with, right? Or can you truly not have any clue about what you're talking about? Rather just make whatever understandable? But then again, how do you make something clear to others without actually knowing it yourself? Thus, you must be an expert in at least that one thing, right? Okay, so maybe a person can be a genius in very specialized area. Know something so well they can make everyone else understand that topic. However, does having the ability to do that make one a true genius or more like a rather amazing one trick pony? I don't know, and now I think I'm talking in circles. Plus, this whole concept is giving me a whopper of a headache. On the scale of those horrid ethics problems from college – the ones where there was no right or wrong answer. Yes, I doubt I'm a genius by whichever definition you decide to go with. Just look at this missive, I turned something simple into something complex. That must be a sign of anti-genius if there ever was one.

*****

Is there etiquette about what happens to your computer or tablet in a public place? Like when you leave it sitting alone on a table or chair at a coffeeshop? If you leave the screen on, does that mean any passerby is free to sneak a peek? What about if you're still sitting there? Can any someone lean over your shoulder to see what you're doing? I was watching the other day as a young man was being extremely careful about his tablet screen. He kept adjusting his body position, shifting his hands. All to shield his screen as best he could from any prying eyes. Yet, when a man nearby got up to use the restroom, this young man got up, flipped his tablet face down on his chair. Then he casually walked over to the other person's computer. He then not only looked at it but started to scroll through pages. I was stunned. While I was debating about saying something or not, this young man casually went back to his seat. He went back to his ultra-protection-of-his-tablet mode like nothing had happened. Okay, I should've said something, at the very least to the poor guy whose computer had been looked through. But I was so shocked to find that someone would be so brazen to do something like that in a very public place. It was like I'd slipped into a spy movie without knowing it and I was now in on some sinister plot. Was I the only one who noticed? Was I the only one who even cared? Does stuff like this happen every day in hundreds of coffeeshops across the country? What if the young man was a police officer and had a legitimate reason for looking? What if I, by saying something, ruined everything? Ugh. What if they both were criminals and they had planned to do this to pass info? Double ugh. Thus, in the end, I grabbed my drink and fled. Hoping against hope to never see the two of them again.

*****

I went to this art installation at the local coffeeshop the other night. There was one picture of two cats that really bothered me. To me, it looks for all the world like the black cat in the background is about to pounce on the striped cat. And the striped cat in the foreground knows he is about to be lunch and is begging to be helped. But as I listened to others ooh and ah over all the other paintings no one said a word about this particular one. Yet, I did notice that no one was spending much time looking at it. The beautiful sunset savanna scene with the giraffes, yes. The one with the brooding man, love, love, love that one. The other household animals, 'Hey, that looks like my golden retriever' or 'Wow that could be my spaniel'. But the disturbing picture hardly got a glance. Okay, I'm not the only one who doesn't like. But nobody's saying a word. Thus, I was left to wonder, does the painter not see the problem with the painting? The way the striped cat's head is tilted, the huge sad eyes? The way the black one is half in shadow, lurking, menacing? Maybe her cats hate each other and she felt she had to capture the natural state of life in her house. But I for one, never want to see that painting again. So, when will these pictures be gone from my favorite coffeeshop? When will it be safe to come in here and get my favorite drink again? Or can I just get my drink and, oops, clumsy me, I tripped. Sorry, now my drink is all over the painting of the cat wanting to eat the other cat...

*****

 We all spend a lot of time waiting. We wait in lines at what seems like everywhere we go. At the grocery store when all but one of the clerks are chatting to each other rather than opening more lanes. So, we wait as our ice cream melts and our hot deli chicken turns cold. At the DMV where they just seem to make us wait on purpose. So, we've wasted yet another lunch hour trying to renew our license or registration. Now we'll have to come again because they're still fifty numbers from ours. At fast food places, coffee shops, busy restaurants, stop lights, train crossings, you name it we've waited there. Are you a nervous waiter? Do you tap your foot softly? Jiggle your keys? Pace back and forth? Are you a bored waiter? Play with your phone while sighing, over and over again? Or are you an angry waiter? Stomp around? Slap the counter? Shout at someone to come help you? Or are you like my little friend at my favorite coffeeshop? He sits on a stool, leans on the counter, hands tucked under his chin, watching the baristas work. He's a patient waiter. Eagerly anticipating the treat to come. Excited, even if it takes a little longer to arrive. Then when he sees what he's waiting for, he slowly drops his hands to the counter. He doesn't grab his drink, he waits for it to be slid right in front of him. He stares at it a moment or two before having that first sip. If we all have to wait anyway, why not enjoy the experience?

*****

Even if we refuse to admit it, we all view people based on a set of stereotypes. Stereotypes, that, for the most part, were imprinted on us by our parents when we were but babes. A fun experiment sometime is to go to a local coffeeshop and play 'who ordered that drink.' Sure, the mocha Frappuccino with extra whip may seem like an easy one. The teenage girl in the skin-tight, hot pink, polka dot leggings and neon green cami. She's out with her girlfriends, giggling on her sparkly I-phone. She's gonna grab that. But are you really sure? What happens when the greasy biker all in leathers who's bigger and hairier than a grizzly bear steps up to the bar. Wait, see him pick that one up? Most people would do a double take. I have a friend who's tiny – she's 5 feet 1, a little over 100 pounds and wears kid's clothes most of the time. People underestimate her all the time. Sure, she plays the tiny card well, fools people into thinking she's just this helpless little thing. Then she does something to knock the socks off of everyone. Like build a 24 square foot shed in her backyard with almost no help – concrete foundation to metal roof. She doesn't even look like she could lift a 2x4 much less a sheet of plywood. Yet, she can because looks are deceiving. Let's face it, the saying 'dynamite comes in small packages' certainly is true of her. Who are you judging without getting to know? Who do you believe things about just because of who they seem to be? What do you believe about yourself? So, flip the script on those stereotypes.

*****

We all have little habits we do almost without thinking. We brush our teeth at the same time and in the same way every day. We have the same breakfast. We go to our favorite coffeeshop and get our favorite brew. But wait, what if the store is only open six days a week? What if today is Sunday, you're there at your usual time wondering why the door is locked? This past Sunday, I sat outside our local coffeeshop for a few hours watching as just that happened. Despite there being no lights on, no barista behind the bar, no patrons at the tables, person after person tried in vain to open the doors. Nope, no can do – locked up tight. One person even knocked, calling out "Anyone home?" Does he think the baristas live in the shop waiting for people to come get coffee? Oh, please, baristas are people too. This is why I love to people watch. I'm just waiting for those moments when I can find people out of their comfort zone, out of their routine. It's in those moments you see a glimpse of who people really are. In this case, some got angry, some got frustrated and some just rolled with it. None could change the situation, it was what it was. But I think most of those people should've taken a deep breath. And then realized that coffee was the last thing they needed.

*****

Why do you need a toilet handle? Not as in what does it do, but why would someone steal one? My local coffeeshop keeps having to close the women's restroom and make us girls used the men's. Simple reason being, in the last few months the toilet handle has been taken off, repeatedly. Okay, the first time it was a kinda funny prank. The second time, it was on a night the store was super busy. No one reported the problem until who knows how many people had used the toilet – without being able to flush. Yeah, I know, why did so many people not check to see if there was a problem? Really, when the toilet hadn't been flushed by the last person wouldn't it make you stop for a second? I think stupidity was ruling that night. To be honest, I can't even begin to think what was going through those women's heads. But okay, whatever. By now, this constant missing handle is getting annoying even to me. The men's room isn't as nice, there's no place to put my bag and plus, if everyone has to use it, the line can be quite long. So, to the toilet handle thieves of this world, I repeat my question. Why do you need a toilet handle? Is there some other use for them? Or do you like having extra in case yours breaks? Or has someone stolen yours and you're just in need of a new one? Or do you like to see the chaos you can create?

Random People

I'm watching you, even if you don't realize it. And no, I'm not a stalker...

I  was at the library the other day and watched in fascination as this woman was stuffing toilet paper in her purse. Okay, stuffing isn't the right word. She was being very careful to wrap the toilet paper around her hand to create a make-shift roll. Then she was carefully putting it in her bag. Then making another roll. I guess she saw me watching her in fascination. She proceeded to tell me that she hadn't bought toilet paper or paper towels for over ten years. Alrighty then, not sure what I'm supposed to do with this information. Now I'm a very thrifty person, I've been told that I can pinch a penny so hard I can make it scream. But I've never once considered liberating toilet paper from any public place just so I didn't have to buy it. I mean, let's be honest here – where would the world be if everyone took this woman's attitude and ran with it? Not only would you never be able to find a public restroom with toilet paper or paper towels in it, you would be hard pressed to find soap there either. Oh, and that ketchup you dunk your french fries in at your favorite fast food joint? Nope, never gonna find that either. Mustard, mayo, sugar, creamer, napkins, utensils, wow, there's a lot of free stuff out there prime for the taking. Good grief, if people started feeling free to take everything that ain't nailed down you'd be left with nothing. It would be anarchy, chaos at its highest level, the end of the world as we know it. Yet, somehow, I couldn't bring myself to tell this woman any of that. I just watched her move from the toilet paper to the paper towel dispenser. She was careful to fold each piece it dispensed and place it in her purse. Her very, very large purse. What else had she stuffed in there? Did I even want to know? No, this was clearly a case of, 'Just back away slowly from the crazy lady...'

*****

As anyone who knows me knows, I love to people watch. For the most part because people aren't always what they appear to be. At a quick glance, you may think you can tell who a person is by how they are dressed, what store they are in, who they are with. But if you look closer, there are often little signs which will indicate it's all an act. They're trying to be someone else either to please someone or to make themselves seem better than they are. Or they're trying to hide a flaw or a perceived weakness. Or that person is putting on airs, they just want you to think they have the perfect life when they don't. That tough biker dude, yeah, he's just a teddy bear who has always wanted to be the bad guy but the clothes don't make the man. That girl in the perfect outfit, she just thinks people will respect her more if she looks put together. However, it's because she doesn't understand respect is earned. Me, I'm a WYSIWYG– what you see is what you get. More than once, I've been told I'm so honest it's painful. Which has always made me wonder, why is honesty a bad thing? Surely I can't be the only person who's fully comfortable with who they are and sees no reason to hide their true self. You put me in a dress or cutoff shorts and I'm the same person in all the aspects that matter. As one friend of mine says, I'll never be fancy. I'm a solid, country girl to the core. So, find your true self and show it proudly to the world. Don't let anyone make you feel like you are less or that you need to be different for any reason.

*****

Have you ever had a chance encounter with a celebrity? Were they everything you hoped they would be? Nice, handsome, just like your favorite character? Years ago, I ran into a major star, and well, it was a less than stellar experience. He was arrogant, rude and left me in tears. What, you may ask, was my offense? I couldn't have cared less that there may have been someone important in my immediate vicinity. I was simply going about my business, ignoring the limo which may or may not have had someone of note in the back. His name isn't important, he's had, and continues to have, more than his 15 minutes of fame. So, why then do we give such weight, such importance to someone for the mere fact they have been in a TV show or two. Or a dozen movies? There are people who deserve to be recognized who never are. So, indulge me for a few moments to name a few true celebrities. The x-ray tech who remembers a patient speaks another language. Then instantly greets them in their native tongue. The store clerk who offers to help get something off a shelf for a customer in a wheelchair. The girl at the supermarket who helps an elderly woman put her groceries in her car. The guy at the store who hears an exchange between a store employee and a customer. Then realizing he can help by interpreting since the customer's English is poor and jumps in. So here's a thought: give some props and honor to a real celebrity, those unsung heroes that are in every community whom no one ever seems to notice...

*****

Small towns are great. Everyone knows your name. Where you live. What car you drive. What you had for breakfast... Okay, maybe it's not quite that bad. There are people who love this lifestyle. They're the biggest gossips in town and would never move even if you gave them a billion dollars. Others can't move out of the fishbowl fast enough. But small towns can be lots of fun as long as you can see things in a different light. Take for instance a typical trip to the post office. All you wanna do is buy stamps. However, you run into three other people whom you end up having conversations with. You talk about the weather, your kids, the big event in town next week. So, what would take only a few minutes now has taken you over a half an hour. Next you go to the grocery store. Here you run the gauntlet of goodness-only-knows how many people as you select your bananas, hamburger, yogurt, etc. More info is exchanged, you now know more news than the weekly paper could ever report. Sure, half of what you've learned is probably not true but hey, it's been a great morning of entertainment. Yeah, you might want to go to the big city of you ever need to go to the doctor. Goodness only knows what people might say about an innocent trip to Dr. So and So. You wouldn't want those rumors getting started, now would you? Yet if you're ever in trouble, everyone in town will know as fast as you can spit. They'll be on your doorstep with fresh pie and a helping hand. Sure, part of the reason is to keep the gossip mill running...

*****

The other day I had the unenviable opportunity to wait somewhere with only hard, wooden benches for a seating option. I was uncomfortable, and ready to be anywhere else but there. An elderly couple was there waiting with me and after a few minutes the man stood up to stretch. Then he started to pace around.

Finally, he stated "Well, it could be worse. We could live in Wyoming where this is the only kind of seating they ever have."

Wait, what? He slammed an entire state for the simple fact he was uncomfortable? Has he even been to Wyoming? I have and trust me when I say, I haven't ever seen a bench this horrible once in the many times I've been there. What is it about human nature that we think it's okay to put down people, places, things without a second thought? Civility is not just an ideal we should study in college but is something we should strive for. And, FYI, if that bench was in Wyoming, it would be better not worse. My guess is the view would be of some amazing mountain top. Here where I was sitting, the view was a lone palm tree in the middle of a parking lot. Ugly doesn't even begin to describe it. But that palm tree was an interesting metaphor unto itself given where I was at the time. But that's another issue. No, Wyoming has some great mountain lodges with comfy couches. You can snuggle up by a warm fire, look out at the mountains and not see another ignorant soul for miles...

*****

"These are the worst heels to wear for walking to lunch!" The woman limping down the street said to me as we crossed paths.

Um... Well, okay, TMI. Maybe I should've stopped to help her. But how? She was much larger than me – no way I could've carried her to her destination. I don't carry blister pads or even band-aids with me. So, no, I don't do anything. I kept walking, feeling like she was just needing to vent. To someone, to anyone, about the ridiculousness of women still feeling the need to dress up for work, lunches, life.

"Damn girl, you'se walkin' away from me like you'se forgot you'se were my girlfriend."

Yeah, like I'm going to turn around and respond to that. Is there a response to that? He didn't exactly seem sinister when he walked up the street. He had a big ol' smile on his face as we passed each other, a slight tilt to his head. So, no, I'm not responding to that either. I kept walking. I didn't need to validate his antiquated notion that women are eye candy to be openly ogled on a public street. While I will talk to almost anyone, I don't throw out random words like this. I want my words to matter, I want to have a conversation, I want to learn who you are. Yet, as I sit here and reflect on these random words – what if I had stopped to talk to these people? Would they have stopped as well? Is it possible they were trying to reach out to form a bond, albeit in a rather awkward way? I don't know, and now I never will...

 *****

The latest fitness craze seems to be spinning. If you don't know what that is, go to any gym and you'll quickly find out. Because I'm beginning to think it's part cult. The people who do it are faithful to do it almost every day. They wear special outfits. Okay, only some of them wear those funny shoes that click-clack as they clomp down the hall in them. They have their own language – up, down, turn to the right, now back! This is screamed over the beat of very loud, pounding music. Music so loud it can be heard reverberating down the halls of the gym. Finally, they try to recruit new members. They'll tell you how great it is and how you should join them. When you question them about how tired they look after the class, they'll admit to it being difficult. Yet they all say it's still oh so worth it. Of course, they say this as they are trying hard not to pass out or drown in their own puddle of sweat. But they use some very high-pressure tactics to get you to join them. Try it just once. I'll save you a bike. Whatever. Needless to say, so far, I have resisted the pressure from those who spin. I feel no need to do any more exercise than I already do and what I already do isn't what you would call taxing. The "no pain, no gain" philosophy is lost on me – give me a nice gentle walk or a water aerobics class any day. Yet, I must say, in a weird way, I admire their passion and drive. Wonder if those crazy spinners are this way with the rest of their lives? Or is spin the only thing they live for?

*****

I really hate morning people. In my current situation, I have been forced to temporarily become a morning person. I often have to meet with people over coffee or breakfast before noon for one reason or another. As I blearily look at this happy person over the table, I have to wonder what are they on? Because the caffeine I'm drinking is definitely not enough to make me anything more than slightly less grumpy. Then one morning, I was at the Y and realized that morning people must just be a different bred. Those people who can exercise to blaring music at five A.M. like to do so at that time. I've seen some of those same people there in the afternoon. Let me tell you, it looks for all the world like they would rather be at the dentist. But first thing in the morning? They bounce into the Y, energized, chatting to everyone, amped up, ready to conquer the world. They don't need coffee – they're the proverbial early birds who get the worm. Ugh, I had no idea there were so many early birds in this world or that they would end up controlling so much of my life. But I'm not joining them permanently. This night owl is going to keep taking naps in the afternoon so she can be up half the night, thank you very much. And as soon as this season of my life is over, I'm sleeping for a week – then going back to sleeping until noon. You early birds are welcome to all the worms you want. I prefer chocolate!

*****

I've heard it said there are two kinds of people in this world – squirrels and ducks. Squirrels run around chasing after everything they see trying to locate the best nuts they can. Hoarding up as many of those nuts as they can find. Of course, they lose half those nuts because they never put them in the same place twice. But they'll keep fighting off anyone who gets in their path as they chase down those nuts. When bad weather comes, they run for the nearest tree and hide out with those nuts until it passes. They're crazy, frantic, obsessed. However, ducks lazily swim on the pond occasionally eating a fish or two. They fly south for the winter so they don't have to worry about the bad weather. And when rain does come, well, it literally just rolls off their waterproof backs. They're calm, peaceful, easygoing. Okay, I know all you nature lovers out there are screaming at me right now – ducks are mean! But don't ruin my moment here, my point's still valid. Even if a few ducks are a wee bit on the aggressive side going after food. But that's not their natural state. So, are you a squirrel or a duck? Obsessive or easygoing?

*****

Now I love to observe all of the different characters in this world. There are some you just have to wonder about. Those that dress so inappropriately for a crowd with so many children it – you know who I mean. Those girls who are wearing skirts or shorts so short you can see they aren't wearing anything underneath. Those guys who are wearing those tight pants or shorts and no that isn't something in their pocket. And there are those who are trying to recapture their youth. The guys with the obvious rugs on. The women with the obvious dyed hair. Both wearing clothes they probably found at a thrift store. Clothes they think their grandchildren wear but don't. Then there are those who are brave and defiant despite how they might appear to the rest of the world. The woman in the wheelchair with no feet who is wearing a bright green dress. She's got nothing covering her legs but bright green socks to match. You can't help but notice there's nothing at the end of those socks but why should she have to hide the fact? It's part of who she is. The woman with the hump on her back who is wearing a cute dress with a tight top which does nothing to hide the hump. The man with the prosthetic leg who had wrapped it green ribbon for the day. It's people like them I spend all day trying to find in the crowd. The rare gems who are comfortable with who they are. They aren't trying to look a certain way to please anyone but themselves. They are different and they know it, accept it, embrace it. So be who you are, we need more gems in this world. You can only be you.

*****

I really hate it when I run into people I know out of context. It's because I often can't figure out who they are and why they seem familiar. This ever happen to you? You see your neighbor from across the street four doors down only every once in a while. Of course, it's because you have very different schedules. Not like you're avoiding your neighbors. Yet you wave each time you see them, smile in a friendly way. Then today you see this person at the grocery store who looks like someone you know. But you, for the life of you, don't know why. Then, horror, upon horror, they wave as they give you a big smile. You wave back, sweat running down your back because if they come over to talk you're going to look like an idiot. You still can't figure out who they are. Thankfully, that ends the exchange before anything more awkward happens. Then ten, twenty minutes later, you slap your forehead and say to yourself, "Well, duh, that was that neighbor I almost never see!" This is why I try so hard to get to know people well, beyond just a casual smile and nod or wave. Everyone deserves to be treated with respected and as someone special. Unfortunately, even I have these awkward moments in life. Those times when I've failed to get to know someone as well as I should. But it provides a reminder to try harder to know everyone I come in contact with – neighbor to grocery clerk. So, get out and learn your neighbors name, take the time to learn something about them.

*****

I was in a public restroom the other day and there was a rather long line that I was at the end of. The other ladies all seemed like they knew each other. They were all talking about how they had been sick this winter. I won't go into the details – they were being rather graphic and gross in describing how ill they had been. So, one lady, who'd been sharing tales of being violently ill, gets done with her turn in the stall. Then waltzes out of the bathroom. Without washing her hands. Now I know I'm a bit of a germ phobe when it comes to public places, bathrooms in particular. I almost never touch any surface that I haven't cleaned myself. And those I do touch, I put a barrier between my hand and it. You know, using toilet paper wrapped around my hand to open the stall door when I'm done. Flushing the toilet with my foot. Turning on the faucet with my hand wrapped in a paper towel. Well, you get the idea. I'm going to look at you sideways if you sneeze or cough in public and wonder why you didn't stay home. So trust me when I say, that lady ranks right up there on my 'OMG disgusting' list. As far as I 'm concerned she's a walking patient zero – I have no idea what germs she's spreading by not washing her hands. Really, I don't care. It's enough to know there's germs. If I ever have the chance to meet her in a social setting I'm never going to shake her hand without a wet wipe barrier there. Then I'll have at least ensured she has cleaned one of her hands once in her life. Because for all I know, she never washes her hands ever. Ick! How she has the nerve to complain about being sick when she can't take the time to wash her hands is beyond me. So, listen and listen good, it's not hard to wash your hands...

*****

Yesterday I watched this very patient bike rider. And I do mean patient. He was following behind a rather slow person who was walking in the street. At first, I thought they must be out enjoying the day together. Then the biker tried to get around the walker when there was break in traffic. But he wasn't fast enough and ended up back behind the walker. The walker seemed unconcerned or to not even have noticed what was going on. Finally, the biker must have decided he had had enough. He jumped the curb and rode his bike on the grass, sending debris flying. This got the walker's attention, she yelled as a twig hit her leg. Got me wondering why she was walking in the road rather than on the sidewalk on the other side of the street. Also, got me to thinking why there's only a sidewalk on one side of the street in the first place. But the biggest question is, how did she miss the bike rider breathing down her neck for five minutes? I mean, really, don't you feel it when someone is staring at you for only a few seconds? But sometimes we can be so blind to the obvious...

*****

I had a chance to tour a local a large commercial bakery one day. I watched in fascination and horror as the tour progressed. These guys were handling the raw dough without gloves. How often do they wash their hands? Do I even want to know? The bread and hot dog buns were spending hours on miles of open-air conveyor belts. Belts that were next to the bays where trucks load and unload. How much dirt was flying around up there? In the area where the donuts and honey-buns were made, there was so much grease in the air. Not only could you feel it, you could see it. Oh, ick, double ick. Again, the finished product was spending time on those open-air conveyor belts. I was really feeling like I would never eat commercial bread products again. I was getting slightly nauseous. This tour was a bad idea – they should never open their plant to the public. Then at the very end, our tour guide starts handing out fresh, still warm in the package, donuts and honey-buns. Suddenly, all is forgiven. Free food wins the day – I guess I'm easy to bribe. The smell of those pastries was just too much - visions of germs fled out of my head as I sank my teeth into that first warm gooey bite. Not sure how long this sugar high is gonna last...

* ****

I love dogs and dogs, for the most part, love me. For the majority of my life, there has been at least one dog in my house. Big ones, little ones, loud ones, quiet ones, stupid ones, smart ones – yeah, I've loved them all. There just is nothing better than coming home to a big wet slobbery kiss, you know the kind that only a dog can give. They love you no matter what you do or don't do. Wish making people friends was that easy. But, no, people want stuff in return. Right now, there's no dog in my home and I'm missing having my own furry beast something awful. So, I'm trying to make friends with other dogs whenever I get the chance. The nice dog at the office I'm at sometimes now greets me at the door like I am one of her 'people'. My friend's dog puts his head on the arm of the chair I sit in and begs to be petted whenever I go to his house. The dog in the neighborhood who keeps bringing me presents. The bit of carpet, the pair of pants, the shoe. Yes, life is good when dogs are part of it. Well, as long as I forget my attempt at making friends with the neighbor's dog. He tried to bite my leg and chased me home. Now every time he sees me he growls at me and tries to get me. Thus, I have learned to walk home another way. Okay, that is one dog who seriously hates me with a passion and is never going to let me forget it. Maybe I need to get him a treat and bribe him. Hey, it works with people sometimes...

*****

Everyone has a different laugh. Some are high pitched giggles, others are deep chortles, some are in-between. And many people have a laugh for different occasions. A laugh when they're finding something funny, another for when they're nervous. And then there are the people who have the pig snort laughs. The ones that you just aren't sure if you're supposed to find cute or cringe at. A laugh can make everyone in the room laugh with you. But a laugh can also make someone cry. We can laugh in the face of tragedy instead of melting into a puddle of tears. I have a friend who doesn't understand why I laugh no matter what. I laugh when I'm happy. I laugh when I bang my thumb with a hammer. Easy, I reply, it feels better than anything else I can do. Yes, laughter may be the greatest thing we can do as people. So, find something you can laugh at today, watch an old sitcom, children playing in a park, puppies on YouTube. Laugh until it hurts, forget the cares of this world for a moment or two or twenty. Just laugh...

*****

Ever heard the phrase 'his word is his bond'? Used to be if someone said something they meant it. Now, not so much. I don't know, maybe it's just this new generation of millennials. But there seems to be a lot of people who seem to not understand they have to follow up on what they promise. I overheard a conversation one day where someone said that thus and so would be done. Two days later, it still wasn't done. So, the person at the other end of the conversation was trying to get the thing done another way. Then, the next day she was at it again. Finally, she had success but it was a day after the thing needed to be finished and thus it really didn't matter anymore. So many problems because someone didn't keep his word. There are many areas of our lives that we expect to be able to trust someone's word. The doctor, our pastor, our best friend, our parents. But most of the time when someone says "Sure, I can do that" – do we really think they can? Well, I know at the local coffeeshop they gave me the wrong latte the other day. So maybe the problem is that we just don't really listen to each other anymore. Or we are just too wrapped up in what's going on in our own lives...

*****

Have you ever noticed how if you wait for someone they never come but the second you leave they do? One day I had a package that was supposed to be delivered. Since I knew I wasn't going to be home, I left a note for where to leave the package. I do this all the time, no big deal. Right? When I arrived home later in the day, my note had been replaced with a note from the delivery guy. It said 'package can only be delivered with signature'. Um, okay. Well I had signed my note, like I always do and that had always been enough before. So, what's the problem? Thus, the next day, I waited all afternoon for the driver to come back. Nope, no package. So about 5:30, I gave up – left a note on his note saying 'can't hang out all day, leave package' and signed it. Again. Not two minutes after I left my house, I get a text saying the package was delivered. My question is, how long was that delivery guy watching my house waiting for me to leave? And why was my signature on his note okay but on my note, it wasn't? Or was he just hoping I was more attractive looking than I turned out to be? Either way, this guy wasted my afternoon...

*****

15,000 steps. That's the goal for one older lady at the Y. Almost every day, she gets in the pool and tries to walk 15,000 steps – for her that equals a little over five miles. It's not easy - on land she needs a walker. Her gait is so unsteady, even with that it's hard for her to get around. It's not quick - she's in there for several hours each day. It can't be pain-free, but I've never heard her complain. Yet, most days I see her in that pool trying to do her steps. Sure, she doesn't get them all in every day but she tries. So, for all you couch potatoes that made a New Year's resolution to have this be the year you're going to get in shape – no excuses. If you feel like you're wanting to give up by February and chuck it in, go back to the comfy couch, nope, no can do. She was in that pool in December when only the faithful few were still coming to the Y. If you're one of the couch potatoes that never even thought about getting off the comfy couch, well here's some motivation. If she can exercise, then anyone can – there's no reason not to find some small thing you can do. Even if it's lifting a soup can twenty times as you watch your favorite soap opera.

*****

Why do you live where you live? For some the answer is "I was born here." For the others, it might be "My job moved me here." But have you ever wanted to throw caution to the wind and do something crazy? Throw a pin at a map and move wherever it lands? I know someone who did something like that and well let's say the jury is still out on if that was a good move or not. But at least she tried something different. I know someone else who was invited to jump on board a yacht for a year and travel the world. After about eight months, she gave up and got off in Miami. She liked that city enough she ended up living there for years. She found a job she loved and ended up moving somewhere else to keep that job. I know people who immigrated to the US seeking a chance at a new life. January is the time when everyone's willing to try something new. Sure, it's probably just a pair of new shoes not a move to the other side of the world. But maybe someday...

*****

The decorations are coming down – thus the holidays must be officially over. It's a new year, vacations are over, the kids are back in school, routines are almost back to normal. For me this means savoring each moment. The other night I sat on the porch and listened to the birds sing soft and sweet as the sun set. The gentle breeze carried the smell of rich, damp earth, left over from the earlier rain. Somewhere nearby children were playing. Their laughs and shouts rang out every once in a while. Then the delicious smell of cinnamon rolls wafted my way from the nearby industrial bakery. As I started to drool, I wondered how long it will be before that smell will become a turn off. Because I need to stop craving sweets every time I'm home. It makes me want to bake up a storm. But nobody wants fresh cookies in January...

*****

I know someone who says the same thing every time she drives down this particular street. She will go on and on about how the lights aren't in sync and how she's sure to hit at least one red. I'm sure she doesn't even realize she's already said this a thousand times. For whatever reason, these lights are a sticking point for her. So, I roll my eyes, try not to scream 'go another way already' and nod politely - every time I'm in her car. Now sometimes we have to say the same thing, like the greeters at Wal-Mart who have to say hi to everybody. But other than that, are we repeating ourselves because we really are passionate about something? This can be good. We can change the world if we scream loud enough, long enough. Or because we have nothing better to say? This isn't so good. Are we talking just to hear ourselves? Me, I think I'm repeating myself because I'm stuck in a rut...

*****

Last year I moved across the country – as in from the northwest to the southeast. It's about as far as you can move and still be in the U.S. Not only is there the culture shock of different foods, different accents and different ways of doing things but I'm now an empty-nester. So now that I've been here for a while, people feel like I should no longer be referring to my home state in the 'we' sense. As in, "We do it this way and I have noticed you do it this way around here." I guess if I plan to make this move permanent I should begin to see myself as one of 'them' and become a 'we'. But that would make my home, my friends a 'them' and me no longer a part of something I've always taken pride of being part of. How do you let go of everything you've ever been? How do you become something new? I guess by simply joining in with the new group, jumping in with both feet. Okay, so here goes – they can keep the snow, we like having it be in the seventies on Christmas day! Well that wasn't so bad. But this still doesn't quite feel like 'home' yet...

*****

I  was at a fast food place the other day with a friend of mine. We watched in fascination as someone from another fast food place across the street walked to the one we were at. She placed her order and sat down with her meal. So what was interesting about this? She was wearing a uniform from the other fast food joint. Bold as could be she was stating she preferred the food at somewhere other than where she worked. My friend and I started to make comments to each other about why the food was so bad across the street. It started innocent enough – fryer was broken so no yummy fries to go with your burger. Because, of course, fries make the meal. Then we got mean – huge cockroaches running amok have taken over the restaurant. We were giggling so hard it was difficult for us to finish our meal. Let's be honest here, this is a common problem, thinking what others have is better than what we have. It often leads people to want more than they can afford. Envy, greed, lust. For some reason so many can't be happy with what they have, can't be satisfied until they see what else it out there. But have you run into people who have found that the thing they're chasing isn't really any better than what they already had? And sometimes it's worse? We need to be careful what we will cross the fence or the road for...

*****

I love the reactions I get when I tell people I'm an author. It ranges from, "I'm not interesting, you don't want to talk to me." To "Let me tell you my life story, it'll make a best seller." I tend to ignore those who think they have a story to tell. They've already told it to anyone and everyone they've ever met – it's old news. No, the person I want to talk to is the one who thinks they have nothing to share. It's there I find the quiet kid who's been rebelling against everything her family is for years. She claims to be an introvert, claims to be not that bright. Yet, five minutes with the girl and I knew the truth. She's a closet extrovert because she doesn't want her family to know who she really is. She flunked a class on purpose because she refused to do the work. Because doing the work would reveal who she is. Here she sits, still as a mouse, saying nothing while surrounded by her family. All because she thinks her family is wrong in how it shows itself to the world, she wants to be nothing like them. Ah, this is what makes her the most interesting person in the room. Not her braggart of a father who has spent quite a bit of time trying to convince me why he'd make a great leading man in a book. Not the other crazy cast of characters who make up her family who also have been telling me stories all night. No, I wish I could spend more time with this girl. Find out what caused her to reject her family and its history in this way. But I'm there for only a moment, a social butterfly who floats and moves on. So never ignore those boring stories, those people who say "It's not that important" – you never know what you may find.

*****

Some parents agonize over the name of their child. The first and middle name must be just right, maybe to honor a family member, maybe to not get picked on in the school yard. I have a friend whose parents tried to be cute with her name. Their last name was Friend so they gave her a name with the initials B. and A. thus B.A. Friend. Which was fine until she got married, to a Cockburn – needless to say she never uses her initials anymore. I have another friend whose parents were determined to have a lawyer in the family. Since their last name started with W, well they made her name spell out L.A.W.. All well and good but I think the pressure was too much. She ended getting pregnant in tenth grade, dropping out of school and getting married. Another perfect name ending badly. Other parents, well I think they just grabbed a dictionary and picked a random word. I have a friend named Halloween born in May. Yup, the month of May. I asked her once why the name. She rolled her eyes and through gritted teeth replied, "I hope they were really, really drunk." Um, okay. I never followed up on that. Then there's Moped Guy. I have known him for months but he still won't tell me his name. So this is what I've come to call him, it's better than nothing. I know where he works, I know where he lives, I know why he drives a hot pink moped. But I still don't know his name. So, Mr. Moped Guy – how bad is your name on a scale of one to ten? What? Like a twenty-seven? Or is it just that your name is boring, like Bob?

*****

I had to ask for directions the other day in a town I'd only been to one other time. As is typical when getting directions from a local, the answer didn't include street names. It was turn right at this landmark or that store or that sign. However, have you ever stopped to think how helpful those directions actually are? Especially to someone unfamiliar with the area? Like I know where the old grocery store used to be. Like I care about the new chicken place. Or I remember when they put up that sign. If I knew any of those things, I doubt I would be asking for directions. How often do we do this in other areas of life as well? Just make assumptions about those around us based on what we know and have experienced? Do we look down on others because we think they should've done something differently? Just because we would've it that way? Yet we can't do that, they haven't been on the same journey as we have been. If they ask for some help, we can't think they'll want or need what we would. No, their needs may be very different than what we perceive them to be. So, think twice before giving directions, remember who you are giving them to. They've never seen that chicken place you know...

*****

How observant are you? Do you drive down the same street and never think twice about something that may seem odd or out of place? You merely keep driving along because you know this street so well you never even look at it anymore?

Once I overheard someone say, "Well, when did they put up the Christmas lights? And why only on that one tree?"

Okay, those lights have been there since Christmas, they were never taken down. I guess the store they're in front of likes them. But here's the thing, I've seen this person walk down this street almost every day. How did she never notice them once in the last nine months? It's like not noticing the sun is purple now. Sometimes missing something is a kindness. Like the guy I talk to sometimes with the horrible burn scars on his face and left arm. While I do look him directly in the eye, I never linger my gaze on his scars. I have a feeling there aren't many who can look him, then not stare. Or cringe because his return looks are often very guarded. Yes, observe, analyze, then adjust your view to the situation. But never blindly wander through life. You might be missing something important, beautiful, wonderful.

*****

I happened to be out and about super early one morning. Boy was I surprised by the activity going on in my small town. And by early, I do mean early – about 4:30 A.M. Police wandering around wasn't a huge surprise. I guess the guy dumping the trash bins downtown shouldn't have been either, nor the street sweeper. But all the joggers were. There must've been more than a dozen. But as I thought about, maybe this shouldn't have been news either. Sure, I've seen them in the middle of the day but really, how good of an idea is that to be jogging in the heat? The way those joggers sweat in the middle of the day doesn't look like the best of ideas. Then there were all of these cars who seemed to be just driving aimlessly around. Nothing is open that early, clearly they had nowhere to go. Thus, I saw several of the same cars pass by on more than one occasion. What was up with that? Crying baby who just wouldn't go back to sleep? Someone hoping, beyond hope, that some store had magically changed their hours and would be open? Honestly, am I the only one who sleeps anymore? So, to all of you early birds out there – enjoy your early morning. I'm going to go take a nap now that my errand is over.

*****

I was talking to someone one day who felt she had taken one too many twists and turns in life lately. It was to the point she was thinking she had completely lost the plot. She was no longer focusing on what she was supposed to be focusing on. She had gotten lost in the craziness around her. This is why I'm such a fan of simple – hard to get lost if you don't have much clutter to begin with. But so often our lives can't be simple. We have spouses, kids, jobs, responsibilities that tug at us from every direction. Throw a few more things in the mix and chaos is going to ensue. I've heard it said if you always look at the goal then you'll never lose sight of it. But I know more than a few people who have lost sight of that goal no matter how hard they keep looking at it. Yet, there's a valuable lesson to be learned in losing the plot. Are we supposed to be following that line? Or is there a better one out there for us to pick up and begin anew? Only our heart can tell us for sure.

*****

What is it about some drivers who think they own the road or at least 3 parking spaces? Now you can kinda understand it if the person is driving a large truck or a brand new $200,000 car, right? But what about the person driving the oldest clunker you've ever seen? You know the one with so many dents in it you wonder how much bubble gum and duct tape is holding it together? I watched the other day as a woman drove down the street taking up half the driving lane and half the middle turn lane. She then proceeded to park straight in an angled parking spot, thus taking up two and a half spaces. Okay, she wasn't that old, it was six A.M. and she didn't appear drunk or hung over, so she was just that bad of a driver I guess. Because trust me her car was nothing special that it needed any protection from anything. In fact, on closer inspection, it appeared to have more than few dings and dents. I think her driving was supposed to be a signal to one and all 'Caution, bad driver ahead.' Well, after she parked, her walk was about as careful as her driving. She was taking up most of the sidewalk yet she wasn't weaving like a drunk would. As I watched, she seemed in no hurry to leave, purchase anything or really do anything. No, all she did was sit on the sidewalk bench and smoke. Well, my goodness, can't you do that somewhere else? Why ruin a lot of people's day with your bad driving and parking just to have a different view? As I have often stated before, why have we lost our ability to have some common decency and look out for others? After all this was a busy street that only got busier as she sat and watched the traffic go by. I don't know, maybe she needed some money and was wishing someone would hit her piece of junk...

*****

One weekend I was having a great time at another festival - signing and selling my book, Road Home. I love getting out and taking to people. This event was particularly fun because a few fans stopped by to say hi and bring friends over to buy a book as well. However, the highlight of the weekend was the booth I was next to. They weren't selling anything, rather they had a board with three questions on it. There was space where they were encouraging people to write answers on the board. I watched over the course of two days as people walked by, some brave enough to write something. Others were content to just read what was written. Others simply kept walking. The third question is what intrigued me the most – if your life was a book what would the next chapter be about or called? Most of the answers were rather mundane, about trips or family. But a few left me wondering... "Widowhood" As in, she is now a widow? Or is she wanting to be? Oh boy, should somebody have figured out who that woman was and alerted the authorities? "How not to kill my _____" Um, well that's a loaded statement if I've ever heard one. Hope 'widowhood' and this person don't know each other. Hope this person is merely referring to the houseplants they seem to always be killing off. "Life as a gigolo (no takers)" Okay, well then, there's nothing to add to that really. I saw the guy who wrote that one. His wife was right there and she didn't erase it, not sure what this says about their relationship. The best one I saw on the board all weekend had to be "I don't know what to name this chapter so I'm going to name it I don't know what to name this chapter." This is a person some might say has no vision, no sense of purpose. But I see something much different, much greater. I see someone who's open to any opportunity that comes their way. Someone who's ready to do something crazy. Someone ready to go on hunches and gut instincts rather than what's prudent or safe. This is the kind of person who'd understand why I've adopted the saying "Life should be a question... What comes next?" So, what's your next chapter? And are you ready for it?

*****

I was talking to an artist one day. He was telling me about an interesting project he'd done. It was the inspiration for some of the works he had on display. The project was to take models of kids' faces from all different races and ethnicities. Then display these as the plaster molds. Thus, they were all white faces. Now, don't go saying anything about that. It's not his fault that plaster is that color. Sure, he could've put some dye into it but he didn't. Besides, that's not the point here. What is the point is that people were forced to see the faces as equals. As people looked at the display, comments were made about how flat or round a nose was. Or how high certain cheekbones were. The differences in chins, foreheads, eye shape were noted. But color was never mentioned. When color was taken out of the equation it didn't matter. Someone once commented she was surprised that I could tell black people apart. Because, apparently, most white people can't. I was looking at how their features were different, how their actions were different. Do others not do that? But in life there are many times where we take a quick look at others and think that's enough to know all we need to. How often do we focus on the minor things and miss the major ones? Sometimes the elephant in the room is the tip of the iceberg....

*****

I love playing with words. Okay, sure, it's kinda an occupational hazard. But the English language is full of words that can mean two very different things. For example: You hear someone say they spent the day stripping or they're really great at stripping. Where does your mind immediately go? Now, come on, get your mind out of the gutter. Because I know where most of your thought went right off that bat. But the person in question could be talking about taking paint off of furniture or doors. There are lots of words like this and when used right can lead to unexpected twists. You have to know the context to get the meaning. Do you take the time to know the people in your life so you can understand them well? Do you understand their hopes, dreams, wants, needs? If they tell you something would you understand where they're coming from? Or would there be a gulf too wide to cross? So, find the place where you can see what those words really mean. Because you wouldn't want to assume your stripper friend is taking his clothes off when he's meaning he's taking paint off...

Sonny and Fred

The worst example of two best friends. Or is it?

What makes a friend a friend? Better yet, what makes a friend closer than a brother? I know someone who has just such a friend. Wait, before you go, ah, I wish I had that kind of relationship in my life, you really should think about what you're wishing for. Okay, let me tell you about this not so great of an example of friendship. Person A, I'll call him Sonny for this story, since I need to protect the name of the less than innocent in this case. Well, Sonny isn't the best of friends to have. In fact, I would have to say he may be one of the worst examples out there. When the person I know, I'll call him Fred for now, went out of town, well he let Sonny watch his house. Let's just say it wasn't the best idea in the history of the world. Because Sonny killed his dog. Okay, okay, it was sort of accidental. He wasn't paying the most attention and the door/gate or something got left open. Sonny may or may not have been drinking at the time. Then the dog got out, was run over. Sad story, horrible story. Do you still decide to be friends with this person? Maybe, maybe not. Yet, if you do, you certainly aren't as close as before, right? Wrong, not these two. Fast forward a bit. Sonny steals Fred's car and totals it. No doubt about it, Sonny was drinking this time. Fred's response to this second incident? "I've got a better dog now and a new car, not bad." Wait, what?! Fred feels closer to Sonny than his own brother, maybe a little less so after the car fiasco. Are you a good friend, a moocher friend, a good-for-nothing friend? Which do you want to be? Are you a Sonny or a Fred? Should there even be room in this world for friendships like theirs?

*****

So now about Sonny and Fred. The two friends who are closer than brothers and probably shouldn't be. Well, turns out Sonny drinks, a lot. Seems he has an excuse for this, he's Irish and it's his nature. Well, I'm part Irish and I'm offended by that ethnic stereotype. Yes, I have a glass of wine sometimes. But I don't walk around drunk every day. But I'd rather not get into issues such as those here. Anyway, Sonny and Fred used to work together but Sonny lost his job in part because of his drinking. Fast forward a bit, Sonny goes to rehab because of the drinking while driving/totaling a car thing. So, when he gets out he wants his job back. Okay, fine. Everyone needs to be able to pay their bills. Being a useful part of society is always good. However, he has a beer or two or more before calling his former boss to ask for his job. Really? Who does that? When he is unsuccessful at getting his boss on board, who does he call? Fred of course. And Fred sees no problem trying to help Sonny get his job back. Exactly when is enough enough with these two? Which got me to thinking, is there ever a time when you should give up on someone? Be it a friend or family member, when does tough love come into play? And you show them the door until they learn to stand on their own two feet? Don't get me wrong I'm all for second and third chances but twenty-fourth chances? Fred, if you're reading this, take a look around - are you seeing only quicksand?

*****

Yes, Sonny has an excuse for everything. He almost burns down a house. It's okay, he just wasn't that good at cooking. Well who can be when they are too drunk to see straight? He falls asleep on the job, behind some crates. It's okay, not like anyone noticed for hours. The problem is, people hear his excuses and instead of calling him on them, have been letting him get away with them. Not just every once in a while, but consistently, for years. People bail him out of every jam he gets into, let him destroy property, do a bad job at work. Who says you can't just float through life? Who says you have to take responsibility for your actions? Hey, in the end Sonny ended up getting his job back. I'm rather sure it's a bad idea but who am I to judge? But if Fred is really as good of a friend to Sonny as he claims, is he doing Sonny any good? So, take a look at your friendships, are you helping are hurting?

Off to work we go

Is it a job, a career, or just something you do to pass the time?

I've been in a few cities now that have curbside pickup of every item of trash imaginable. If it doesn't fit in your garbage can, then place the items in a neat pile. Wait a day or two and the garbage fairies come and magically whisk it away on certain days. Well this is great in theory but what happens when the garbage men decide not to pick up the whole pile? I was watching as a team of garbage men were picking through the pile and pulling out only certain things one day. Okay, it seemed like they were pulling out the big sticks and leaving the leaves. Maybe they were going to take them somewhere and mulch those sticks and any others they happened to find in other piles. But this seemed like an inefficient use of resources. I happened to be in the same area a few weeks later. The pile was still there and I watched as a different team of garbage men picked out a few more of those big sticks. Oh, my goodness, at this rate the pile is going to be there for years. Which in this case might be fine, as it was all yard waste, eventually it would turn into compost. But what happens if it was a stove? Or a couch? What, were they hoping scavengers would come by and do their job for them? But what really got me – this town's having a huge problem with people randomly tossing garbage around. So, they've decided to place garbage cans around to help with the problem. Here's a thought, don't leave households hanging with their trash on their curbs for months. It's sending the wrong message, letting everyone know it's okay to have bits of trash everywhere. Trust me there will always be garbage, so garbage men have the most secure jobs in the world. So just do the whole job the first time. Really, this is one of the least complicated things in life. Now how to bring about world peace...

*****

What would you do if you had the summer off? Go to the beach and just watch the surf? Go on that dream vacation? Learn a new skill? Do that remodeling project you've been putting off for the last four years? Come on, think of something really good – you've got three months to play with. Okay, okay, you may not have unlimited funds but still there must be something you could do? Well, I asked this question of someone I know who has the summer off. She works for the local school district so, in fact, she has every summer off. Since her hair was now streaked with pink, I was eagerly anticipating the answer. Clearly, she was up to something wild and fun with her summer off. Her answer? Camp chaperon. Whoa, that sounds like work. And not a little work. No, it sounds like a really hard job. One with screaming children who think they don't have to play by the rules because camp is supposed to be fun. Okay then, I guess some people are just gluttons for punishment and don't know when to quit. Or how to relax or have fun or be lazy for a change. So, are some people just more driven than others? They simply can't ever imagine not being a contributing member of society? But where's the fine line between being lazy and being a hard worker? Not like she's ever going to cross that line or even find it...

*****

Don't you just love it when it's time to go home from your job? You get up from your desk, or leave your assigned station, and walk away. Your day is done, you can relax. However, in certain jobs you can't leave at your appointed time if people are still there. Restaurants, cafes, coffeeshops, gyms, grocery stores, well you know the kind of places. You have to shoo the customers out first. After having given them numerous reminders that the place is about to close of course. There's one place I go where I feel sorry for the staff. They have a patron who takes seven or eight minutes to get out of the building. Problem is he never starts to leave until after the places closes. The staff always tries to help him along, does anything they can think of to get him out faster but it never works. I've often watched from outside as he shuffles along to get out of their way. Wondering all the while why he can't simply leave before the place closes. Let's face it, it's pretty rude to consistently make these poor people be late for whatever they want to do after work. Sure, you may be thinking, it's only seven or eight minutes. But he does this at least four times a week – that's at least twenty-eight minutes he's wasted. In a month that's about two hours, in a year it's over a day. All for one guy. So, the next time you're somewhere trying to close the place down, think about how you'd feel if you were the staff. Sometimes even the most generous of tips isn't worth a day of our lives. What would you do with that day? Who would you spend it with? Your family or this patron who can't leave on time? Me? My family would win every time...

*****

I was raised with a strong work ethic. Whatever job I have, to do it to the best of my ability – even if it's a job I hate. In the last few weeks I've observed others not having the same zeal for their work. One woman at the grocery store started swearing in front of me as she was putting my items in a bag. Well, to say she was putting the items in was being kind. To be honest, she was slamming them with all the force she could muster. I was cringing each time she grabbed something new. I was debating if I should stop her but was almost afraid of what she would do if I did. Anyway, she finished her diatribe by saying "I hate this job." Okay, fine but I didn't need to hear the cursing or to have my bananas crushed under the cans of tuna. But this isn't the only case I can site. Take for example a few others I've heard of. This guy forgot his glasses at home and couldn't read the plans his boss wanted for a project. He did the project anyway, how he thought it should be done and messed it up royally. Then didn't understand why his boss was angry. Another person repeatedly takes long personal phone calls on his cell phone. Meanwhile, his job is going undone. Another guy either fell over or decided to take a nap and ended up behind a crate. Sometime later he was found curled up, fast asleep. Who sleeps while on the clock? I could cite so many other examples. It would be easy as it seems everywhere I look any more, no one is working to the best of their ability. But instead I'll end with an example of someone who is. He has had a hard time in life, is grateful for each moment and his job is no exception. He is working as a dishwasher right now but wants to go to college someday to be something better. He's always early to work, eager to please his boss. That's because even though he hates washing dishes he knows it's just a stepping stone. So, work hard in all you do. Because I hate crushed fruit!

*****

Ah, winter. When most of the animal world slows down and hibernates. Even though I live in a place where their idea of a cold day is in the fifties, I still occasionally want to spend a day in bed. Curl up with a hot cup of something, a good book and just nap off and on. But there are too many things to do, too many responsibilities I have to fulfill. I had this idea that when I lived alone I would have more freedom to do what I wanted to, more time to relax. But no, it turns out I simply created more work for myself. I think I'm one of those people who's never going to truly retire. I'll always find myself doing something, being busy seems to suit me best. Do you remember that Bob Dylan song, Forever Young? "May your hands always be busy, may your feet always be swift." I used to sing this song to my son when he was little. I raised a child who also doesn't know how to take a day off, that apple didn't fall far from this tree. I know several people who also never take a day off. In fact, I have this friend who has really only taken a couple of vacations in the last twenty years. On his days off from work, he works on his house or doing odd jobs for others. Recently, this friend and I talked about going on a vacation together. But both of us ended up looking at each other and saying "But I should be doing ..." So, here's to all of us who's hands are never idle, who can't sit still for more than five minutes before finding something to do. May we not drop dead from overwork anytime soon. So excuse me now, I have to make a few phone calls, rewrite a few pages, do some housework, check up on a sick friend...

*****

I was shopping in a store the other day for appliances and was shocked by their price stickers. Not just because of their high prices, but because of what else was on the signs. They proudly stated, "Our price is $xx higher than our competitor." Okay, talk about truth in advertising. How did they expect to sell anything? Since I'm new in town, I'm wondering if I'm missing something. However, I was afraid to ask what was up with the signs. I mean, do they have the best warranty? The best customer service? Do they have free delivery/set up and no one else does? Or is it simply a case of honesty is the best policy? Now, I hate being lied to. Well, okay, don't most people? But I'm not sure I'm very happy being told flat out that "Hey, we're going to scam you by this much!" either. Whatever happened to the middle ground? Is that just not a thing anymore? Everything is so extreme, you are either on one side or another. So, is there just no room for a good meet-in-the-middle compromise? Fine, maybe I don't need appliances – I can keep BBQing in my yard forever. Not like it's going to snow anytime soon...

*****

I was talking to this guy one day. He's a bit older than me, quiet, shy and a bit hard to get to know. Yet he has a kind face and an infectious smile. He was telling me all about his struggles to find a steady job. How his girlfriend has stood by him for years and how in a few months they're going to get married. He smiled and told me how blessed he was right at that moment, no matter the struggles he was facing. Then he explained how he'd been clean and sober for over a year. This came after fighting addiction for most of his adult life. His difficulties in finding employment were because of his past history. Few were wanting to give him a chance. Sure, this was the longest he'd ever been drug/alcohol free, he's willing to admit that to anyone who asks. And yes, this is the only time he is doing recovery for himself, not for someone or something else. He was rather adamant about that as well. Most of his previous attempts had been court ordered to keep him out of jail or to get out of jail sooner. So, does he deserve a second chance? Or a third chance? Or whatever chance this may be? Are there people in your life whom you've written off for some little slight? How far should we go to forgive and forget? Where is the line that makes it impossible to trust someone anymore? Would you hire him? And if so, for what kind of a job? Would you trust him to be alone? Would you trust him with cash? Would you let him drive the company car? There are no easy answers here...

*****

I'm single, and I don't think there's anything wrong with that. However, in the last month or so, I've gone out to eat alone five times. Somehow three of those times, my order was wrong. One time I was ignored for over twenty minutes and my water glass was empty. So, I ended up wandering around the restaurant trying to find water to refill my glass. Four times I had to wait more than ten minutes to get the check after the waitress picked up my empty plate. And only once was I asked if I had enjoyed my meal. Rude, so very rude. But, okay, I get it, bigger tips are to be had from bigger parties. But why be so rude to the one lonely looking, single person in the room? The service is so abysmal, I'm tempted to not tip at all. Or better yet, turn it into a game. Yes, that's the way to go. I could make up score cards I could fill out during the meal. Do this and I add so much to your tip, don't do that and I subtract so much. Then leave the appropriate tip or not and the card at the end of the meal. The first waitress (or waiter) to get a perfect score gets a $100 bonus. You wanna take a bet on how long it will take me to find someone who will get the bonus? A month? Two? A year? Let's face it, is there anyone out there who is willing to look at a person eating alone and treat them with the same respect as everyone else in the room? I don't think so, maybe I'm wrong...

*****

I went to a business one day but they weren't open. Their sign clearly stated their hours of operation, and it was past the time they were to have started their day. But the doors were locked. The lights were off. No one was home. There was someone else there waiting, I asked him if he knew if the hours had changed. His reply? "Not as far as I know." Okay, I'm game, I'll sit and wait also. A few more people came, wondering what time they open. One person knocked on the door every few minutes, no luck. It was clear there was no one there. The looks on people's faces as they came expecting the place to be open were great. Shock, double takes, big round looks of "Oh" and puzzlement. Finally, about an hour after the place was to open, someone arrived who clearly worked there. However, she didn't say a word about the delay, apologize, or anything. Just opened up the shop as if nothing was amiss. Now, I've seen this happen before, in fact have written about it before. Yet it still fascinates me how something like this can happen. Plus, how many people will sit around and wait for something that may never happen. Human nature is such a funny thing. Habits are hard to break. We want what we want when we want it. But sometimes we should take things as a sign to do something unexpected instead.

*****

Have you ever thought about why you work where you work? And, no, I don't mean your actual job, I mean the place you actually work at. Since I am a writer, I can work from anywhere – have laptop, can and will travel. There are a lot of jobs like that, you can simply wander around and work from anywhere. People conduct job interviews in coffeeshops these days. And I mean for everything from nanny positions to corporate jobs. I'm not sure why. I guess there's nothing more relaxing than to have a shot of caffeine. Sure, kick the nerves into high gear before an interview. Great idea. As we have become more digitally connected, we have become less dependent on desks and traditional offices. I even heard of someone who tried to get some work done at a rest area because it had free Wi-Fi. That seems like a bit of a stretch but who am I to judge? Okay, then, if what they say is true and retail stores are dead, are traditional offices next? Are we going to see a wave of workers wandering around in packs searching for Wi-Fi hotspots and a caffeine fix? I don't know, but it seems like we're becoming much too dependent on technology and much too disconnected from people...

*****

I had the opportunity to discuss painting with a professional artist one day. We were both surprised by the similarities between his craft and mine. Sometimes he flips his painting upside down to gain new perspective. Sometimes I write a scene from a different character's point of view. This helps me gain some clarity on a difficult passage. He starts with the big picture then adds the finer details. So do I by creating the general story then going back and putting in finer points. He likes to leave a little mystery in the painting, not all of the details are clear and sharp. I work to leave some things on the table. Thus, my readers will be to be forced to fill in some of the blanks themselves. And if all else fails, he sets a piece aside and works on something else if it's just not speaking to him. I've done this with story ideas too. I may or may not pick them up later, somethings just aren't meant to be shown the light of day. I guess in a way this shows that art is art no matter if one is painting a picture with a brush or a concept with words.

*****

I was in the grocery store one night and was again checking out with only a couple of items. Yet again, this store, which supposedly prides itself on customer service, didn't have one of the 'ten items or less' lanes open. Thus, I was in a regular lane behind someone with a buggy full of everything under the sun. I don't know if they were shopping for a month, an army or had fifty kids. There was only one other option for a checkout lane and that lane was equally crowded. So, I stood and watched the other employees wander the store aimlessly. And I do mean aimlessly. I counted at least five of them while I stood in line. None of them had anything in their hands. None of them were adjusting stock on the shelves. None of them were even stopping long enough to be counting things on the shelves. I have no idea what they were doing. But I do know they were saying "Hi!" to every customer whose path they crossed. Is it really possible this store has decided that a greeting is what is most important? Even more so than ensuring the customer can buy the products in a reasonable amount of time? I was truly wondering that as my frustration mounted the fifteen minutes I had to wait in line. Because five people to greet and two to checkout seemed to me not the best ratio. Plus, I hate it when my yogurt is not ice cold. I wanted to eat it right away and when it's warm it's not as firm. Ick.

*****

Ever wonder who comes up with some of those crazy business ideas? There's a place called Insomnia Cookies. You can get fresh, hot cookies delivered until three A.M. Um, whatever happened to people just baking cookies themselves? According to the company's website delivery takes thirty to forty-five minutes. By that time, I could've baked you a couple of dozen cookies. How about Potato Parcel? Ever heard of that one? You can have your message or photo imprinted on a large potato and sent to someone. At least cookies you would want to eat but this, I don't think so. But a quick google search will net you all kinds of weird businesses. You can rent chickens. You can find where to park in driveways by paying a small fee in certain cities. There are places you can go to safely cuddle. There are places you can go nap for an hour or two. There are places you can play with cats. It's an insane world out there. I have to say I'm impress by the ingenuity and creativity of some of these people. Others, well, I won't say what I really think about them – I was taught to always say something nice or not say anything at all. But a safe place to cuddle? Please...

*****

Most people are such creatures of habit. They can't help themselves when it comes to doing the same thing day in and day out. I overheard a conversation one day where a guy was laughing at himself. He was bemoaning the fact he'd showed up to work at the same time he always did. You may be thinking, 'So what? No big deal.' Thing was his schedule had been changed and he now was supposed to be there an hour later. While he knew this, his body didn't and so he had woken up at the same time. Thus, without thinking, he did his normal routine and went to work that first day of his new schedule an hour early. It's things like this that cause us to get stuck in ruts and never do the things we long to do. It seems like everywhere I go anymore I hear people saying, "I've always wanted to... but just never seem to find the time." With thinking like that, there'll never be an opportunity. Take a chance on something today, start small, work up to something big. Life is so much more than being a creature of habit. Life is so much more than the ruts were stuck in. After all ruts are just very long graves...

*****

I was talking one day with a young woman and I heard her say something that I've heard a lot of people say. "I'm just a mom... " Whoa, hold up. Has she never seen the survey that comes out every year about how much moms should be paid? They do everything – cooking, cleaning, taxi service, doctoring boo-boos. And most of the time without a single thank you from anyone. Not their kids, not their spouse, no one. But moms aren't the only ones who are guilty of putting themselves down this way. I've heard janitors, secretaries, baristas, waitresses and others do it also. Have you ever been to a building and said thank you to the cleaning staff because of how great the place looked? No? Why not? What would happen if the bathroom was never cleaned, the floors never swept? Nope, no 'just a' about being a janitor. What about a secretary or office manager? Phones going unanswered. People left to stare at the wall rather than being ushered into their meeting. Without the least-of-these kind of people the world would fall apart. Thus, there are truly no least-of-these kind of people out there. In fact, I think that moms, janitors, secretaries, waitresses, etc. rule the world. Just nobody knows it...

*****

"When James & I separated & divorced, it was one of the hardest things I've ever had to go through. But, then I met Wayne... " "My Wayne was one of the funniest guys in the world. The most generous, giving and capable guys I've ever known. He was strong, yet gental He always spoke the truth and never played mind games..." "Nothing is so strong as gentalness."

Those aren't my words and thus the spelling errors aren't mine. Yesterday I found a journal among a stack of free used books. So, word to the wise, check your used books before you take these somewhere for people to paw through. You never know what nefarious reasons someone might want to read your used, discarded journal for. Okay, I don't have some evil plan here – I just like to observed people and what better way than to read their thoughts? This thing was a gold mine as far as I was concerned. Anyway, back to the journal... So, this poor woman has now lost two men, James to divorce and Wayne to something we aren't told about. Either that or the woman's grammar leaves a lot to be desired and she really didn't mean to use the past tense. Further in the journal, after all the ramblings about Wayne, is a bunch of doodling about booking a cruise. Has she met someone new? Or is she going with a friend because she's given up on finding love? There's no explanation and I, as the reader, am left unsatisfied. But some books do that, don't they? Leave us hanging. Never telling us if the character finds true love in the end or even if any part of the conflict is sort of resolved. While others wrap the story in such a tight, neat little bow we're left with nothing. Only a sense that we, as the readers, were never part of the tale in the first place. My feeling is that there should be a happy balance there. Some resolution but enough untold for the reader to be left finishing the book in his/her head. Okay, I'm going to finish this story. Wayne isn't gone, the woman's grammar is bad. Wayne and the woman go on this amazing cruise around the world. Part of the way a new passenger is picked up - James. James tries to win her back. The woman ends up falling off the boat, was it an accident or murder? Fine, I'm having way too much fun with this...

Language Barrier

I think I just need to learn Spanish already...

I went to see the play "In The Heights" and so enjoyed it. While it was a tale of immigrants, set in New York, it still felt relatable to me. Even though I'm someone who was born here in the US and am from a western state. What made it even more special, one of the people I went with is an immigrant from Spain who had lived for a while in Cuba. Shades of his story were contained in the play, bits of his language, his cultural experiences. He kept leaning over to me and whispering things during the play, "In Cuba we would say..." or "I remember that." He would laugh when a character would say a word in Spanish which he often says. Words he says without thinking about it because they naturally come off his tongue. Like some of characters in the play, he has managed to carve a life for himself in this country. A life created after starting over in this new country with almost nothing. Because he wanted something more, something better. Despite his English not being the greatest, even after all these years, he's made something of himself. How much do you appreciate being an American? How hard do you work for this country? How much do you really want to be here? Do you see the flaws and work to make things better? Or do you sit back, let things just happen?

*****

 I have this friend who's not from the US. His English isn't the best but he tries to be as understandable as possible. He repeats himself when needed. He asks how to say something if he thinks he's not using the right word. One day we were talking and he interrupted our conversation,

"NO!" He stated.

"No what?" Came my reply.

"You no say it right. It's buTTer, not buDDer. You Americans no speak English."

Okay, now I, a native English speaker, am being corrected by someone who can't really speak the language? I could've been offended but I wasn't. I found it funny and started giggling. To make it worse, he went on a rampage about other words that we 'Americans' can't say – water, spaghetti, well you get the idea. By the time he was done, I was laughing so hard I could hardly breath. However, he had a point – our speech patterns are lazy. We slur words and letters, we use slang that's difficult for a non-native to understand. To make things worse, we have regional dialects, accents. Plus, slang that means different things in the west than the east. It's so bad that I sometimes can't understand people from other areas of the country. So, I got to thinking, is language the only thing we do this with or are there others? If there are other things, exactly how many other things in life do we do the same thing with? Where is the line between comfortable and pure laziness? So, do yourself a favor today and try to identify one thing you're sloppy with and do it right for a change. See how it feels, see if you feel different – even if no one else ever notices. I, for one, will never pronounce butter incorrectly again. Or maybe I'll just never use that word anymore, what's Spanish for butter and is that easier to pronounce? How about the Spanish word for water?

*****

Have you ever been to a Cuban BBQ where they roasted a pig? Let me tell you it's an experience. First you get a pig and inject mojo into it. In case you're wondering, mojo's a marinade. Then you put that pig into the la caja china box and put the lid on. Put a bunch of coals on the lid, light them up and wait for hours. While you wait enjoy some tostones and mariquitas along with some beer or wine. Don't know what tostones and mariquitas are? They're types of fried plantains. Finally, the pig's ready and when you pull the tray out of the box you get to snap off pieces of the hot, crispy skin. That first bite's amazing, it crackles in your mouth. Then maybe you get a bit of the moist sweet meat. For me the best part of the whole experience was the hours of waiting. Getting to know friends a bit better. Getting to know new friends. Then after the meal was enjoyed sitting around and talking the evening away. I don't know if this is typical of what every Cuban BBQ is like or if this is just how this group does it. But it was an amazing all-day event. Who knew you could bond so well over a roasting pig? New experiences make life so rich and full. However, I wasn't willing to try the tail or the ears. I'll leave that experience for another day. After all, why savor everything in one bite? Leave something for later, have an excuse to go back for more.

*****

I know someone who married a person who's from another country. She and her husband sometimes have this major language barrier they must overcome. They laugh as she tries to learn his language. He thinks he knows enough of hers already. Thus, the two of them have created this weird third language that only the two of them can understand. All well and good as long as they don't venture into the real world very often. But the real problem came when they spent the holidays with his family. Sure, they only traveled to another city in this country. However, his family spoke even less English than he does. As in practically none. Here she was for over a week, surrounded by people she couldn't really communicate with. Using a mix of hand signals, what little words she knew and a whole lot of smiling and nodding, they made do. She told me that at one point, someone in the family played an American song for her - 'Hotel California'. She said it was the oddest thing anyone could've picked. Of course, it was unlikely anyone understood the words. By the end of the trip her understanding of the language was better. Yet, her ability to respond in kind wasn't. I asked her what it felt like to be in that situation. Her response?

"I'm a Cuban wanna-be. I'll get there someday!" She replied with a huge smile on her face.

Instead of being upset, frustrated or angry, she was eager to learn more. She wanted to embrace the culture of her husband as her own. She savored the food, language, music, traditions. Okay, so here's to not being so stuck in who we are we can't learn and grow. Here's to embracing new traditions. Here's to getting out of our comfort zone. Way, way out of our comfort zone...

*****

I went with my friend who's not from the US to his medical appointment and ended up getting a Spanish lesson. Isn't it funny how sometimes things just happen? I've been trying to learn some Spanish because of this friend. Oh boy does this make my brain hurt! I tend to get so confused about all the tenses and the male and female of everything. Then, what do you know, the tech at the office knows some Spanish. Yeah, he's trying to speak to my friend once he hears my friend's accent. The tech's Spanish wasn't great but he had made an effort to learn enough to connect to his patients. You know, that's so nice. Most people wouldn't bother. I should know, I've gone to more than a few appointments with this friend. Almost nobody speaks Spanish. My friend was helping the tech with his pronunciations and with how best to use certain words. I was trying to pick up a few new words and so was repeating almost everything. Needless to say, we all ended up laughing during what could've been a tense time. These are the moments we should be living for. Those unexpected things that can make a dull, dreary day just a little bit brighter. So, hola amigos...

*****

I've often been puzzled by how people come up with the stereotypes they do. Take for instance an exchange I overheard one weekend. Two friends talking about a third person.

"He's a doctor, right?" The first friend said.

"No. He's an engineer. Why would you think a doctor? Just because he's Chinese?" The second friend said.

"No, I thought I remember you saying that. If I had to guess based on his being Chinese, I would've said engineer." The first friend said in reply.

Well, alrighty then, as longs as we've got that all clear. So, does the first friend have a set job for every nationality? Or is it only the Chinese he's so specific about? Me personally, I would never even have noticed the engineer in question was Asian. Well, not unless someone pointed it out since I tend to not pay that much attention to things like that. Okay, unless someone has a heavy accent. Even then, I might not notice. And this man must've been born here since his English is flawless. Thus, why the big deal about his ancestry in the first place? I know I hated it when people used to mention my red hair (which thankfully has faded with age) and freckles. Why state the obvious - I know I'm part Irish, it's not like I can change where I come from. But I can change who I am and be the person I want to be, despite whatever stereotype there may be for my ethnicity. Next time you meet someone, stop for a second and think are you looking at the person in front of you or what you want to see? Because we are more than what we look to be on the outside.

*****

Lately I've spent a lot of time in places where I'm the only white person and/or native English speaker in the room. There are a variety of reasons for this but it has lead me to believe that America isn't a melting pot – it's a quilt. No, people aren't coming here and blending into one giant new kind of group. For the most part, they're sticking together in clumps of people like themselves making a beautiful tapestry. And that's okay – as long as occasionally they let someone different into their group. Take for instance my experience a few weeks ago at a beauty shop. Now I knew I was going to be the only white lady in the place before I walked in. I had asked around. Found out about this shop near my house and that they could give me a haircut without an appointment. No problems here. So, in I strolled, all heads swiveled towards me and I do believe more than a few jaws dropped. One young man jumped up quickly to turn off the loud rap music. Then realizing the waist of his pants was hanging to his knees, grabbed his belt to hike them up. Which was good, I didn't like the view of his Batman underwear. He was much too old to be wearing something like that. Not like I was going to say anything to him about his attire however. Yet, I did feel it would be polite to at least address the music issue. So, turning to him, I told him to turn the music back on, when in Rome, right? I was stunned when one women started to get out of a hairdresser's chair, her hair was clearly not finished.

"I ain't in no rush. Here, you take care o her." She said as she started to rise.

I promptly sat in the waiting area, no special treatment for me was needed. "I'm fine here until you're finished. Thanks for the offer though." I smiled as I replied.

I might as well have landed on Mars. Could it really be this just never happens, white ladies don't go to black ladies beauty shops? I mean a haircut is a haircut right? Everyone relaxed a bit after a while. Okay, not really. One lady asked if she could 'pet' my hair to see if it was real. Yet, I learned a lot about my neighborhood and the people who lived in it as the conversation started to flow again. After my cut, I went back to my life, they went back to theirs. But for a few brief moments we bonded, learned something. Maybe when I go back it won't be such a shock to everyone. Maybe the quilt squares needed to overlapped more than they do now. Maybe I pushing boundaries that need to be pushed. Or, maybe I'm just making a whole lot of people uncomfortable...

*****

I've decided to learn a new language. What you may ask? Something exotic like Swahili, maybe? No. Something useful like Spanish? No, I know enough of that to get into enough trouble already. Something challenging like Chinese? Nope. I think I'm too old to try something like that because it's sure to tie my brain in knots. Tired of trying to guess? Okay, I'll tell you – Southern. Yes, you heard me right. I've lived in the South for over a year now and I'm tired of not speaking the language. People have a hard time understanding me, I have a hard time understanding them. But the worst thing is how many people hear me say something and immediately cut me off. No, they aren't really being rude. Well, not exactly. They just want to know where I'm from, then start asking me about the weather out West. How deep the snow is. How cold it is. Like I have a clue, I haven't been there in a while. So hear me and hear me good, I'm not something exotic, I'm from the same country. Okay, I know that a lot of people in my new state somehow have never even heard of my old state. I'm still trying to figure out how that's possible. But that's a discussion for another day. However, if it'll make my life easier, I'll learn how to say y'all. I'll learn what the words dinner and supper mean to you. I'll try to speak in a drawl. Most importantly of all, I'll try to speak slower. I never knew I spoke so fast until I moved here. But apparently, I speak too fast for any sane person to understand. Now then, is there a "How to speak Southern in 10 easy lessons" app out there somewhere? Because I'm not picking up Southern simply by immersion. No, this is turning into something far more complex than I had ever imagined.

Kids

It's a love/hate/love thing...

I was talking to a little boy as we were riding in a car. Our discussion was about the phases of the moon and how big the moon was that night. Then the car turned a corner and I could no longer see the moon out my window. He started to look for the moon and could no longer find it either. I explained to him where the moon now was. However, instead of believing me, he started to lie. He couldn't trust that the moon was now behind us in a position which was too hard to see from our seats in the middle. Well, there must be a solar eclipse and the news forgot to tell us about it. And he was rather dug into his position, nothing was going to change his mind. It didn't matter that I'm an adult and know more than him. So, his mom stopped the conversation. Thus, we started talking about something else. And he pretended to know more about this new subject than he really did. The lies were obvious whoppers, he had no clue. Ah, was he trying to show me how adult he was? That he and I were equals?

Finally, he stated, "I'm not in kindergarten you know. I'm not a baby."

Yep, he was wanting to not be a kid for a while. For someone to look at him and see a young man, not a little boy. My son had those moments too, I don't remember them being to this extreme however. Now let's be honest, how often do we as adults have these moments as well? Don't we all want to be treated as equals? With respect? With honesty? Told that our opinions have value? Think before you speak – you may be talking down to someone and not even realize it.

*****

Ah, homecoming. Young couples out for their first almost adult evening. All dressed up, trying to be adults but not quite succeeding. They enter a nice restaurant, awkwardly, not sure what to do or say as the hostess greets them. The young men trying so hard to take charge. Being shown to their table, some will remember to help the young lady with her seat – most won't. This kind of thing is better in groups and some have realized that so are seated at tables with friends. But others are bravely just a solo couple. Then some poor young man knocks his glass over. Thus, his drink and most of the ice has been spilled all over the table, his date and the floor. The ice, so to speak, is broken and the tension in the room decreases significantly. Yes, everyone is thinking - "At least I didn't do that!" Then, the teens drift out into the rainy night, off to dance the night away. Another rite of passage is completed. They're transitioning from being someone's precious little baby to being an adult out on their own. These little moments are to be savored as we adults sit and watch. As we sit remembering our own homecoming dance. There are so many other milestones in those teen years, at the time they seem like they'll be make or break moments. Now we know there are things that are so much more important in life. We know what really matters. But maybe we know too much for our own good...

*****

Teenagers fascinate me in a way few others can. This generation seems to be more entitled than ever before. None of them seem to have any other job than to annoy the whole world. Take what happened at this café one day as a prime example. They entered as a herd, took most of the seats in the place even though they didn't need that many. More than half the seats they took were just covered with their junk. They then proceeded to wander around the joint like they owned it. Randomly switching tables with each other. In the shuffle, one table was left completely abandoned. Only a backpack, some loose change, a half-finished drink and some trash left in their wake. An elderly couple came in and finding nowhere to sit was about to leave. I told them to take the almost empty table and explained what I'd been observing for the last half an hour or so. The gentleman made a grunt noise and launched into an "In my day..." story as they settled into their seats. Yeah, you could tell he was less than impressed by todays teen behavior. I read an article awhile back about how few teens have jobs now compared with ten or twenty years ago. Makes me wonder how they will have any work ethic when they do get a job. Once all their bad habits are formed and they are old enough to be even more cocky than they are now. I know I wouldn't want to hire someone who just floats around the office all day. Someone who keeps moving from table to table to see what's going on with everyone else. Nothing would ever get done. The big project would be lost in the shuffle. The clients would never be called back. Oh, and the extra janitorial staff we would need to hire to clean up the mess left behind...

*****

It's summer now and the kids have started to invade everywhere. I'm in a stage of my life where I'm well past finding young children screaming at the top of their lungs in a store or café amusing. The gym, which during the school year is an adult only zone, is now filled with children running up and down the hall. They don't care if they run into people as they do. Summer camps and family vacations will start soon, however not soon enough for my taste. Whatever happened to discipline? Children being seen but not heard? Adults being respected for the simple reason they're older? My son was so polite when he was younger, I once had someone ask me if he needed permission to breath. Well, no he didn't but he did need permission to do everything else. So, if you have a young child, rein them in – not everyone finds their crazy antics amusing. Oh, and by the way, when I mentioned this to a friend of mine she told me exactly what my problem was. According to her, I'm only bothered by all these children because I'm craving grandkids. Oh, my goodness no. If my son's reading this – DO NOT GIVE ME GRANDCHILDREN FOR THE NEXT TEN YEARS AT LEAST! I'm too young to be a grandmother and I don't need any more headaches from screaming children. I've had two headaches this week alone. If the crazy kids are related to me I'd have to pay attention to them...

*****

I love kids. For the most part they view the world with wide-eyed enthusiasm. Ready to meet each new task with an eagerness that few adults can match. But there are always a few that need to be coaxed out of their shells, to call them shy seems to be putting them in a box. Because I've seen those so-called shy kids, given the right encouragement of course, become the loudest of the bunch. Always proudly stating their opinion even if it's not asked for or wanted. Those quiet ones have a knack for watching what's going on around them for years. Then, they erupt like a volcano with about as much pent up energy. Ready to tell you what's wrong with the world as a whole. Those kids are the kids I love the most. They're the ones who we need to guide into maturity, so we can tap into that energy and use to create a better society. Take for instance my new little friend. She was so quiet when I was helping her learn her speech for a program. Even with a microphone you could barely hear her. Her little whisper was little more than her breathing. Yes, even after I gave her a few pointers and a few hand gestures, she still was struggling with that short little speech. So, I gave her a few words of encouragement. Told her something about me, told her how I used to be quiet too. Her little face looked down at the floor for a moment, I was sure I wasn't reaching her. But then she quietly got up and give the best speech of the practice session. Big bold words, raw emotion, clear, bright enunciation. It was beautiful. She's one who, with a bit more encouragement, is going to be able to turn the world on fire. Don't anyone ever call her shy again.

*****

O ne day the indoor gym at the Y was closed for several hours. Thus, six boys were lined up on a wooden bench playing with their phones. They were joshing each other over pictures they were finding. Showing each other videos, tweets, whatever. Nudging and laughing away. Yet, every few minutes one would comment about how much they missed being in the gym. Their basketball was idly being rolled under their feet. Finally, I asked if there was somewhere outside they could play ball while they waited.

To a man, they exclaimed "What and get all sweaty?!"

Huh? Don't they get sweaty playing in the gym? What ever happened to a pickup game played on a dead-end street using a trash can for the hoop? How is it that these boys don't even see that as a viable option rather than sitting on a bench complaining? Do they lack the imagination? The drive? Or does everything just have to be perfect or they don't want to play? Either way, they're going to be in for a rude awakening in life if this is what they expect out of it. Things don't always go your way, you often have to 'get all sweaty' and do what you don't want to do. Are all kids like this now? Heaven help us if they are...

*****

There's an enterprising teenage girl who put a sign up at the local Y and well, all around town also. She wants a job watching your kids. She listed all of her qualities, when she's available, all about her. Problem is at the top of her notice, in big, bold letters is "BABBYSITTER". What?! Right there, she's lost most parents. Or at least the parents like me – I was a little neurotic about who I'd let watch my son when he was little. Okay, I was flat out crazy about it, they had to be perfect which is why I very seldom left my son with anyone. So, as I stood there one day, looking at this notice, I was debating if I should call the poor girl or not. Let her know she's setting herself up to be called by the parents who've gone through every babysitter in the book. Those parents who are desperate, no they're way beyond that. These parents will see her sign and think, "Ah, a diamond in the sitter world – someone few will hire!" Parents who'll know that this kid is going to get so few calls she's going to be as desperate as them. Thus, she's going to accept any and all job offers she gets. But those desperate parents have the kids who no one wants to watch for a reason. These kids are the biters, the hitters, the pinchers, the fighters, the screamers, the cry-all-nighters. But if I call the kid who put up the "Babbysitter" sign, haven't I just become her crazy parent? Thus, I'm just still dwelling on the fact that somebody out there wants a job that they can't even spell. What does that bode for their future? Or even worse, was she one of those horrible kids? Is that why she can't spell 'babysitter'? Nobody wanted to spend any time with her and now she's doomed to forever be on the bottom of the pack? Maybe I'm just reading too much into this. Maybe it's that she has no clue why the word is flagged by her computer. Maybe she doesn't know how to use spell check and it's only a simple little typo. What a whopper of a typo though...

*****

I had the privilege of attending a high school graduation one weekend. I watched as these young men and women got ready for their big night.

One young man observed – "Hey, these caps have an arrow in them."

His friend then commented, "Yeah, and the word front. Guess they want to make sure we get these things on correctly."

Who in the world thinks graduating seniors need that much help dressing? Really, how hard is it to put on one of those caps? Just slap the thing on your head and go. But as I continued to observe, some were much more graceful in adoring the cap and gown. Those time-honored symbols of this rite of passage, have such meaning. Others were struggling, might've just been nerves. Yet, are this group of seniors – or any other group of seniors – ready for the real world? Have they mastered all the skills needed to face life as adults? Will they succeed in college, the military, jobs, marriage or whatever they decide to do now? As I've commented before, life is a glorious unknown when you're eighteen. There's so much for these young people to go out and explore. Thus, maybe the better question is – is the world ready for them? Can we handle gradually giving the reins of our companies, countries and world over to these babies? Can we look at them as equals? Do we even want to?

*****

I was working the other day in a public place and had the opportunity to tell a young man what I do for a living. He was about ten years old and listened in fascination as I told him I write novels for people to read and how I do that.

His eyes grew big and bright, his mouth curved into an 'O' as he exclaimed, "Wow, I can't even write a sentence!"

My initial reaction was 'Wow, this is the future of our country?' Let's face it, at his age not only could I write a whole sentence, I was writing short stories. My son could as well because I made it a priority in his education. Thus, I got to thinking who was failing this young man in his education? His teachers? His parents? Both? And what ever happened to the basics of reading, 'riting, 'rithmatic? Can this young man do any of them if he's lacking in one? I know there are those out there in this world of Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat and texting who think that writing isn't a skill that needs to be learned anymore. After all the whole world has been reduced to a few bites of 140 characters or less for the most part. Yet, out there somewhere is the next Shakespeare, Hemingway, Thoreau, and yes, even another Steven King. So, find a kid today, get them to tell you a story, help them to write it down for posterity. You never know what fire you might ignite. You never know if you will be helping a new generation of writers emerge. The world needs more stories.

Parenting

Does anybody know how to do this anymore? Did anybody ever know how to do this?

 The other day, a friend and I were talking about how much we'd messed up as parents. For the most part it was just little stupid things that we were having a good laugh about over coffee.

Then she said, "But what my parents did to me..."

Turns out when she was a child, she had to wear an eye patch for a year to help strengthen one eye. All day, every day for year. She endured endless teasing, name calling, the works. However, recently she went in for an eye exam for her child with the same problem. There she found out the current treatment protocol requires only an hour a day. Yikes, that's a big difference. She could be angry, blame her parents for not giving in more often to her cries of letting her not wear it "just this once". But no, here she was laughing about it all these years later. She was telling me about how she grew out her bangs to hide the patch. Wore head scarfs draped over that eye. Dressed as a pirate for Halloween that year. Life is what you make it. Being a parent isn't easy, you do the best you can with the facts you're given. No one's perfect and that's okay. But, wow, sometime you sure do wish for that time machine so you could do things over...

*****

Okay, I know every parent/child relationship is different. However, I have this friend whose oldest child started college this year and she seems to not be able to let go. This should've have been a time for the parent to be hands off, let the child stand on her own two feet. That's what I did with my son when he turned eighteen. Well, I did a bit more than that. I moved across the country. If he had a problem he could call me but I wasn't much help – no, I don't know where such and such is, I haven't even seen you in months. But this friend goes and visits her child frequently, stayed for days when her child was sick. And now has jokingly said maybe she should move in with her child. Why? All because the kid burned a meal and the fire department was called. OMG – if my friend had done her job as a parent in the first place, this poor girl would be a strong, independent young woman. One who would just tell her mother off and say, "Never visit me again!" And don't even get me started on why this child doesn't know how to cook a meal without burning it. My son could cook by the time he was ten. Yet, doesn't this seem to be a trend anymore in raising children? Parents want to be friends with their kids, not parents. No rules, no boundaries, no chores, no learning to be an adult who can cope in the real world. So, here's to letting our kids be kids and parents be parents. And to pushing them out of the nest when they turn eighteen!

*****

I was having coffee with a friend and we were discussing our children who are away at college. Then she said that she and her husband had recently cut her son off from the use of the credit card. The card they had sent him with for 'emergencies.' Now, hold up here, don't even let me get started on the fifty ways sending your kid to college with a parent's credit card could go wrong. Or the fact that it's super easy to get your own by the time your eighteen if you've ever had a job. No, I will not rant about all the bad parenting red flags with my friend. Not my job. So, I was polite with my friend and listened as she explained how her son had made little purchases at first. Those escalated into some very large purchases. When she and her husband confronted him about this over the Thanksgiving break, his response was priceless. "I'm an uber broke college student but I just had to go to this concert." You see in his mind fun was a necessity, food was optional. And since mom and dad paid said credit card without asking the kid to chip in a dime, well. Ah, to be young with so few responsibilities because someone else is paying the bills. Now I get college is a time to explore your freedom, but you should be doing it on your own dime. It amazes me how many kids there are who don't work through school anymore. When I was in college, it was the norm to have at least one job and often a second one as well. It's said teens having summer jobs is at its lowest level in a long time. How's this generation going to be the leaders of tomorrow if they start out just floating along? Come on parents – teach your kids responsibility. That there's a difference between wants and needs. Oh, and how to get their own darn credit card while you're at it.

*****

I have a friend who feels she has lost the trust of her now-grown son forever. He blames her for things that were beyond her control. She wants to tell him the truth about some things however feels it may make the rift between them wider. She's deeply hurt to see her precious little boy turned on her the way he has. She feels like an absolute failure as a parent. Yet, there's only one job a parent has – to be there. Nothing else. Parents can and will screw up royally. But as long as they never abandon their child they've done something pretty great. My friend never did anything to make her child feel abandon – she was there every second. But kids don't see that as a good thing I guess. So, I tried to reassure her that everything would work out. I had to wonder where the breakdown in communication was. Maybe she should've been telling him things all along? But how does an eight-year-old or a twelve-year-old handle some very adult situations? And her ex-husband caused some crazy situations over the years which is why he was never in the picture. I don't know, I guess this is one of those things there is no answer to...

*****

I was with a group of ladies the other day and we were reminiscing about when our kids were young. Not about our kids, but about how hard it was to get out of the house. I remember back then I would often grab a shirt out of the dirty clothes pile and put it on. It didn't matter how stained it was, or even if it smelled. No, it only mattered that I had conquered the impossible task of getting dressed. Then if I could just get past the invisible wall that was in the front yard. Then I could say I had escaped the prison the house had become if for a few short hours. Don't get me wrong, I love being a mom but it's a tough job. There were days when it seemed I would never get my son dressed, fed, clean for more than a minute. I think I might've even ate only a bite or two of his food on some of those days. Everything was sheer chaos much of the time. So back to these ladies. One shared how she had put on a shirt inside-out and backwards. However, she didn't realize it until she had backed out of the driveway and was part way down the street. And this was only because the tag was bouncing against her chin. Knowing she didn't have time to run back into the house and still get the kids to school on time, she simply backed back into her drive. There she pulled her shirt off, flipped it around and pulled it back on now in the correct way. Needless to say, her young son in the back seat was mortified at this behavior from his mom. Yeah, at no age should any child see their mother strip to her bra even for a few seconds. But some days I guess there's just no other option. Another lady shared how her son at some point early on in the day had put a smiley face sticker on the butt of her jeans. Not realizing it until she pulled her jeans off that evening, she had gone around town the whole day. There she was sporting this new fashion statement for all the world to see. How often do you see frazzled young moms looking like this around town, wrangling a toddler, or two or five? Occasionally it'll be a young dad instead. Do you cringe with pity, wondering why they can't get it together? Or do you smile, secretly chuckling to yourself? All because you've been there, done that, got the inside-out, backward, dirty, smelly, t-shirt to prove it?

*****

One of my friends has changed her schedule around. All so she can be home for fifteen minutes each morning with her teenage son. She wants to have those few moments each day to talk to him before he moves out of the house in a year or so. Sure, he's a teenager so I have a feeling most mornings those few minutes turn into a staring match. You know how teenage boys are, unwilling to talk about just about anything. If she does get a response, it's probably nothing more than a grunt or two. But I think it's sweet she's trying to savor those last few seconds of his childhood. Because if she's done her job as a parent, as soon as he's out of the house, he's gonna ignore her. That's the stage I'm at with my son. I raised a confident, competent, independent young man who's able to stand on his own two feet. Thus, I almost never hear from him. I'm okay with that, it means, for the most part, he's fine. He's spreading his wings and soaring, without me. Yes, I wish I heard from him more often and that it didn't take a week for him to reply to my texts. But this is what I get for making him so darn independent. And no, I'm not wishing for grandbabies anytime soon just so I'll have an excuse to butt into his life more.

*****

If you're a parent, have you ever taken a moment to ponder your parenting style – well, okay, is many cases, lack thereof? I often observe other parents and cringe at some of their behaviors. There are times I see or hear things so bad I feel compelled to say something to those wayward parents. You know like, "You do know there are kids in earshot, right?" or "Do really want your kids to see that?" But more importantly, parents need to pay attention to what the kids are doing. I mean really, what parent at the end of the night has to spend more than a moment or two to round up every item the child had with them when they entered someone else's home? Or for that matter, doesn't even realize said child was wearing flip-flops not his school shoes? What parent gives a flippant answer when questioned about the fact his child appears to be in the street and no longer in the yard? Okay, okay, I'm sure I wasn't a perfect parent. Because after all, there are no perfect parents. If you think there are, and you think you are one of them, I'm here to tell you you're crazy. But that's beside the point here. What is the point is that I'm sure my son never ran amok at someone's home. I also know I never played hide and seek the shoe version. You know the one where you spend upwards of a half an hour trying to find a shoe or two a child has misplaced. Said shoe usually ends being found in the oddest spot possible, the freezer for example. I also know I never told dirty jokes in front of him, never was drunk in front of him and never let him play in the street. However, there's a fine line between being strict and being too strict. As I look at my buttoned up, straight laced eighteen-year-old man, I have to wonder – did I go too far? Should I have relaxed a bit more, let him be less responsible, be less independent? Ugh, I shudder at the thought of what he might have become if I had...

Relationships

Married, dating, a family, whatever you want to call the relationship you're in, some people just have no clue. But it's still best to be tied to someone...

Have you ever stopped to think about how you met your mate? Yes, I'm only talking to those of you who are in a relationship with a person. Not those of you who think you are in a committed relationship with your dog or goldfish. Focus now, was it love at first sight? Did you get set up? Have you ever thought about how others got matched as a couple? I was sitting around with some friends and someone make the comment, "Did you ever think that ten years ago, you'd be married to that?" Oh, ouch. I think everyone in the room cringed for the couple in question. I certainly hope it wasn't intended as negatively as it sounded. After all, they don't seem like they're that bad of a couple. But, yes, some couples seem a rather odd match. When I was a teen there was a couple I knew who was the oddest of matches. He was a fun loving, rule breaking, wild and crazy guy. She lived to put down others. Rules must be obeyed at all costs. She was so stern that if she ever cracked a smile I swear she would've broken into a million pieces. One day someone asked him how the two of them ever ended married.

His reply shocked the room, "I lost a hand at poker and ended up with her."

Okay, at least it was him saying it and not someone at a dinner party. Sure, as the old saying goes, opposites attract. But does it have to be to the point where people are making fun of the match up? However, should love make sense? Ah, this crazy little thing called love...

*****

I was talking to someone about what's wrong with this country. He's an immigrant and well, let's just say he has some pretty strong views on how this country is going to heck in a hand basket. But he made a very strong point about how in America, most people don't value family. I was raised to value family - to put children first, to honor my elders, to protect my own at all costs. Yet, so many I talk to don't seem to share this value. Take this person I know, as one friend of mine put it, her kids are going to need major therapy. I was asking this person what her plans for her next few weeks were. Her reply was along the lines of having some serious time off. So, I asked if she was looking forward to having time to spend with her kids since they were out of school for the summer. I knew she couldn't possibly get much time with them during the school year. The look of horror on her face said as much as her words, "Oh goodness no, I'm looking forward to me time." Yes, my immigrant friend had hit the nail on the head when he said people in this country are way too selfish. Most people here only look out for number one at the expense of all else. Apparently, our kids can fend for themselves. Our elderly parents are just fine left to rot somewhere. As long as we're having a good time, everything else can be ignored. Heaven forbid we spend time with our family...

*****

First love is wonderful. The obvious PDA. Kissing, holding hands, constant touching, gazing into each other's eyes. Yes, teens in the throes of first love are hard to miss. It can be a beautiful thing to watch as we adults remember when it was us. But what if the couple canoodling in the corner is in their seventies? Are you more than a little turned off? Yet, what's wrong with those in their golden years finding love again? I was watching a couple the other day doing all the young love stuff and someone noticed me observing them. I was told they were newlyweds and had found each other long after they had given up on finding love again. They both had been widowed. Both are in their seventies. I found it sweet and very romantic. So, here's to never giving up on finding the one for you. But if you don't, being single isn't all that bad either.

*****

Today I have to do something I don't want to do. It's not important what it is, what's important is I have this obligation I must fulfill. However, in order to fulfill this, I must bend another commitment I've made. Oh, I know I can pick up the second thing when I'm finished with the first. But I'm feeling guilty, on edge – to the point where I almost couldn't eat breakfast. I often do things like this though, stretch myself so thin there's nothing left of me to go around. It's part of my nature to be helpful, giving, supportive and to work as hard as I can. I'm sure many of you can relate to that. Pressures from spouses, children, friends, work can mount up. Who do you say no to? Is there anyone that can really be considered less of a priority? Well, yes, actually there is. I often forget to take time for myself and let my own needs fall by the wayside. Okay, so maybe I need to take a me day, or just an hour or two. Sounds nice in theory, maybe relax and read my favorite book. Listen to my favorite music while knitting. Or... Nope, never gonna happen – the guilt would eat me alive. So, I keep giving and feeling bad that I'm not giving enough. But I've heard it said that you can't give something you don't have. If I give all of myself away now, there'll be nothing to give later. Okay, deep breath, just a moment for me...

*****

I'm adopted and have always viewed my parents, brother, sister, cousins, aunts, uncles, etc. as my family. I have no other family so who else am I to turn to in times of trouble, joy, or whatever? However, there are those who feel that family means those related only by blood – my family doesn't count. Have these people never seen the closeness that can develop in a group of people who are together not by random chance of being blood relatives? Rather they're together by a decision made to be a family? My adoptive siblings and I could've walked away from our parents when we turned eighteen. There was no tie keeping us bound to them any longer – the legal contract of adoption was over. Yet, we made the effort to remain a family, remain connected. This commitment is even more beautiful when you see it play out between a group of random strangers. They become friends, then gel into a unique kind of family. They support each other no matter what, through the good and the bad. Humans are designed to be connected to other humans. It's a simple fact. So, enjoy the family you have, however it was created. Be open to creating a new one if the opportunity arises. Everyone can use the support of an extra sister or brother - or two or three.

*****

I know someone who's a bit naïve, and that's putting the nicest spin on it I can. I think she did actually fall off the turnip truck you always hear about. She came to me one day, in a flutter. All because she discovered she had accidentally started dating someone. This caused me some pause – that was a new one on me. I was trying to picture how that could happen. What, you both were dropped at the same table at a restaurant and started up a conversation? Repeatedly? Turns out for months and probably longer, men have been flirting with her and she didn't even know it. The guy at the coffee shop who has paid for her coffee a few times. He often would chat with her about the art work hanging on the walls. Yup, he was flirting and getting nowhere because she wasn't seeing it. The guy at the library who kept talking to her about books every time he saw her. He kept asking if she wanted to go somewhere else and continue the conversation. Nope, she didn't get him either and always said no. So on to the guy she found out she was dating. She knew him from a mutual friend. Since he had said he just wanted to be a friend she saw no problem spending some time with him. He repeatedly talked about friendship and companionship. He seemed lonely, she's a rather social person who just so happens to not date – no issues here. Until he wanted to kiss her. Then she had no idea what to do. Wow – how does someone miss something like who's flirting with you? But I got to thinking, don't we all have blind spots? Things we simply can't or won't see? Thus, when I got done trying not to laugh out loud at her predicament, I had to be honest with her. There's no easy answer here, feelings are going to get hurt because both of them weren't truly seeing the other. Or she could decide to start dating him for real and see where it leads...

*****

I know this couple who can't agree on how hot it should be in their house. She was laughing as she said that if she was hot, sweaty and naked then her husband who always dresses in more layers than an Eskimo would be comfortable. I was puzzled on how anyone could live like that. Where do you draw the line? How high do you allow the spouse to run up the electric bill for the heat and/or AC? Since over half of marriages end in divorce, this sounds like a problem waiting to happen. You hear about all those reasons that people will end a marriage for. Since both money and arguing make the list in the top five, where does not finding a perfect temperature fall? Because you know this is costing money and creating arguments. Or maybe this couple has found it one of those funny things in life and has learned to just shrug it off. Maybe they only mention it when someone comes to their house. And then, like me, notices he's in a winter coat and she's in shorts and a tank-top. I wasn't going to ask what was going on with the odd attire. I had the feeling it was one of those questions that was better left unasked. But it was rather warm in their house...

*****

"Honey, where's the water?" The husband asks.

"In the bottom shelf of the door of the fridge." Replies the wife.

"Nope, no water." States the husband.

"There's nothing but water on that shelf, dear." Replies the wife.

"Umm..." Mumbles the husband.

Turns out he never knew there was a third shelf in the door of the fridge. A tiny half shelf that he didn't see when they bought the fridge, installed the fridge and used the fridge for months. Here she was wondering why he kept putting extra water in the fridge in weird places. Why he wasn't using the water she put on that shelf which is designed for water bottles. So, was it because she's considerably shorter than him that this shelf was visible to her? Or was it because she was the one who was putting things into and getting things out of the fridge the most? Perspective sometimes is only a matter of moving our position a few inches. Sometimes it's a matter of doing things we don't normally do. Sometimes it's a matter of looking at things from the same place as someone else...

*****

Has anyone accidentally called you the wrong name? Now, I have a friend and her grandmother never got her name right once. That's different. That's someone who clearly wishes her son and daughter-in-law had named their daughter something else. Something more appropriate, like after her. No, I'm talking about, you're hanging out with someone and they go to introduce you and say the wrong name. Do they catch themselves in the mistake? Do you, most likely awkwardly, correct them? Or does the incident pass by unnoticed? Does your response change if it happens a second, third, tenth time? I know someone who said her boyfriend occasionally called her by the wrong name. She didn't say anything until one day he caught himself doing it. Her response was it wasn't a big deal since it wasn't the first time. He got really upset. To him it was a matter of respect and he hadn't been respecting her as his girlfriend properly. He told her to call him out on it the next time. It turned into this joke between the two of them. He would sometimes say some random name and she would respond to him with another random name back. Sure, our name should be a source of pride, we should never let anyone call us something else. But in the grand scheme of things, shouldn't we be looking to be respected for other things? Like what our character is? Like have we done something for the greater good today? Or for that matter, have we done something for anyone besides ourselves today? So, you can call me anything you like as long as you see me for who I am. You can forget my name as long as you know that I tried to do some good in this world while I was here.

*****

 I have two friends who are having this argument about what the meaning of frugal is. One of them buys in bulk so she can spurge on other things. She thinks that some things just shouldn't be skimped on. She buys high priced sheets because they last longer. She buys high quality chocolate because it tastes better. He thinks buying in bulk is too much of a pain to bother with. As far as he's concerned, the store's not going out of business anytime soon so you can always get more later. You just buy stuff as cheap as you can find it at the time, even if it's not the best or tastes that great. So, the argument came about when they were remodeling their home. She wanted to replace the kitchen sink. She wanted one that was deeper and not rusty. Because she saves on so many other things, she felt this was a reasonable extra expense. He felt this was a waste of money, the sink might be cleanable and who cares if it was hard to use. She wanted to use fancy expensive tile as an accent to plain basic tile. She felt it would be pretty and add value to their home in the long run. He felt this was a waste of money, no one was going to look at the bathroom tile long enough to notice that extra touch. As I listened to them bounce back and forth, the exchange got rather wild with some of the accusations. Apparently, he felt using dishes was a waste of money because of the cost of washing them after each use. Okay, this is also why she doesn't need a new sink in his mind. She felt that paper plates surely were much more expensive. He told her if she stopped making food from scratch she'd have more money for all these 'fancy' things she wanted. She said there was no way that making a fresh pizza at home used that much electricity. Surely, it was more to go out to get a take-away one. I always find it fascinating how people are raised in such different ways. How sometimes they just can't come to a meeting of the minds because of it. In the end, how much of it matters? How much of it should? Do you know when to stand your ground and when to back off? Life is such a subtle dance of give and take...

Aging

I'm not getting older, I'm getting better. Okay, I know I'm the only one who thinks so...

As I've gotten older, I haven't minded so much because most people don't think I'm anywhere near my actual age. In fact, most people are surprised to learn I have a child who's over eighteen – people's reaction is I must've been a teen mom. Nope, far from it. Yet, somehow lately people who know me have decided to make me more aware of my 'advanced years.' One person I know now gives me the senior discount at her store if I go in on 'senior day.' Well, gee thanks, I'm not that old as of yet. Several people have taken it upon themselves to remind me that AARP has lowered the age it allows members to join. And to top it off, someone purchased tickets for a group of friends to go to an event. Well, she took it upon herself to list anyone older than herself as 'senior' so as to save two dollars a ticket. Of course, I was one of those who was in that category. What ever happened to age only being a number? Why can't I continue in my blissful state of denial about how old I am? People who don't know me think I'm in my thirties – why can't my friends give me that same grace and let me be young forever? Okay, so my body is starting to slow down and my mind isn't as sharp but it's not like I'm getting senile. It's not like I'm out there every day acting like a kid – I just want to keep looking like one. So, stop asking me how old I am, and I think I may stop telling people how old my son is. This is one illusion I want to keep up...

*****

Have you ever thought about doing something different with your life? By that I mean, chuck in your job and do something you've always wanted to do? I was talking with a friend and he started showing me some things on the internet. He started talking about how he wished he had time to make things like these items. Beautiful tables, creative chairs, interesting sofa/table combo things. Then maybe go to shows and sell them much like what I do with my books. I asked him what was stopping him from quitting his job and going for it. He really didn't have a good answer. I know, I know – everyone has bills to pay and those steady paychecks are important. Yet, when is the right time to step out and do something just because you have always wanted too? Why do so many of us wait until it's too late to act on those instincts and go where our gut is telling us to go? We're adults for a reason - so we can decide what we want to do with our lives. When the kids are grown and gone, do we really have to stay put? Do we really need to be anchored? Or can we chase our dreams? Because, after all dreams are amazing – they can take you places you never thought possible...

*****

Lately I've been watching a lot of old TV. You know those stupid reruns from when I was a kid. They look so cheesy and corny now compared to modern shows. No fancy special effects, no slick, overblown plot lines. But somehow those shows can bring back memories of simpler times. Remember when the Incredible Hulk was first on and all those crazy situations he got into? Now I watch the show and part of me is wondering how his pants manage to always rip in exactly the same way. But part of me is remembering the shag carpet we kids used to lay on to watch the show. Gilligan's Island – how is it they could make everything known to man but not a fix the boat? Yet as a kid, I remember playing Gilligan's Island with my friends, reenacting scenes or inventing our own. MacGyver – give that man some duct tape and he could save the world. Now come on, how could any one person come up with all of that stuff and would all of those crazy ideas even work? However, each week I remember tuning in to see who he would save and how. I could go on, but I think you see my point here. Sometimes we need to just let go, live in the moment and not look at things so critically. Sometimes an orange is just an orange – something to be savored and enjoyed. So, here's to simpler times, before cell phones, the internet and self-driving cars. Yes, I know, I just proved my son's point about how old I really am...

*****

I'm not older, yet. Well, not unless you ask my son then he'll tell you I've got one foot in the grave. But that's just because he's young and dumb. However, that's a subject for another day. But I do know a lot of older people. Some make the most of those golden years. They travel, they exercise, they volunteer on a regular basis. Others barely make it out of the house. The ones I truly admire are those who have had a health crisis and don't let it slow them down. Poor vision leads to being unable to drive at night or long distances? No problem, find a friend to go places with. Had a stroke and walking become difficult? No problem, learn to swim at age seventy something. Who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks? I know a few seniors who are taking foreign language classes even. Why? Because they're going to travel and want to speak the language. I hope as I age, I can continue to be active and engaged in the world around me. Being an author can be such a solitary existence sometimes. I can get so wrapped up in my writing, I forget there's a real world out there for me to go out and enjoy. There are days I barely make it out of the house, my mind is so wrapped up in the world I'm creating. I think I can learn a thing or two from those active seniors about how to start living a bit more for the now. About how to be living each moment as the gift it is.

*****

Have you ever noticed that no matter where you go in this country, you can find groups of older people bonding over coffee every morning? These small bands of mostly men get together to talk politics, wives, what they used to do, the weather. They laugh over things no one else would find funny. Mostly because they've got so many inside jokes built around years of being around one another. You can find them in coffee shops, cafes, McDonald's, even Y's. Who knows how the groups formed in the first place. If there are membership requirements. Or if you reach a certain age you can just sit down and set a spell. Yet, at least for me, they're a comforting part of our society. You can sit at the next table or one booth over and hear all kinds of interesting tales for an hour or so. The history of the town, area, world. The dirtiest jokes you wouldn't ever share with your mother. Who did what back in the day. I know, I know, most of what they share is pure embellishment or flat out lies to impress those at the table. But their take on the world at large is based on many years of life that the rest of us don't have. Everyone has a story – if we but take the time to listen.

*****

 Have you watched a child learn to ride a bike? First, they have training wheels and usually an adult holding. Then gradually the adult lets go, most likely without the child knowing it. Finally, the training wheels are taken off. But have you ever seen an adult learn to ride? The biggest problem is that adults, unlike children, have fear. Lots and lots of fear. Adults know what will happen if they crash and burn – there will be plenty of pain. Adults also know how much more likely they are to crash since there's no safety net of those training wheels. Oh, and there isn't someone holding on to steady it for the first few tries either. So, they hesitate to go fast, take corners, cross the street – until they get used to the bike, the road, themselves. But isn't much of life like this? Kids will do things us adults would never think of doing. Kids live like there's no tomorrow. Sure kids, especially teenagers can be rather reckless. Yet haven't we lost something along the way as we've matured and aged? I challenge you to seize the day, do something like a kid again. Even if it's just going for a bike ride if you haven't since you were a kid. Feel the wind whip against your face for a moment or two. Don't worry about falling and failing, it's part of life. So is the crashing and burning...

*****

When a celebrity dies its big news. We all take a moment to reflect on this life lost. We remember a famous quote from that famous movie he/she was in. Or that great song he/she sang. But what makes them more important than anyone else? What about you? If you were to die today, would anyone remember you? And if they do what would they remember? Are you more than a couch potato? Now, don't get me wrong - I don't think everyone should be famous. But does your life have meaning and purpose? Have you done something important? It could be something you think is insignificant. Take this friend of mine, he thinks no one will remember him when he dies. Yet he's one of the kindest, sweetest people I know. He's generous to a fault and he thinks he has lead a quiet life. However, if you dig into his life further you will find is rather extraordinary. He's lived in some rather unusual places, served in the navy of another country, had a variety of jobs. Heck, he's even been to North Korea. I've found a few people like this over the years. They don't see their own value, their own worth. These are the kind of lives we should be striving for. Greatness doesn't have to be recognized by others or even by ourselves. Greatness just is, because it's the sum total of everything we've been striving for our whole lives. Even if what we've been striving for is only to survive this one more minute...

*****

There's a lot of talk these days about fifty being the new forty and so on. But should we really be pushing the envelope of trying to act so much younger than what we are? Okay, I get it, no one wants to be or feel old. We hate it that stores are now giving the senior discount at fifty. It's not great that AARP allows you to join at fifty now. Yet, there are some things that you just shouldn't do after a certain age. Like cartwheels after the age of forty at a party where you'll end up flashing your bra to everyone. There's never a scenario where that's okay. Drunken stunts like that are best left to the college crowds. Whatever happened to having gray hair being a sign of wisdom and grace? Where, after a certain point, we've learned from our mistakes and stop making them? Instead of doing stupid things, we're helping the next generation or two learn and grow? Yes, I have some sense of admiration for those elderly people who for their ninetieth birthdays want to go skydiving for the first time. But at the same time, I'm cringing at the thought of what that means for those brittle bones...

*****

S omeone I know was all excited the other day because her daughter became engaged. My first reaction was, 'Well at least I'm not that old yet to have my child be getting married.' But here's the thing, my friend's younger than me. Her kids are older than mine only because she had them at a much younger age than I did. I don't look as old as I am, and most of the time I don't feel as old as I am. Age is just a number, right? Well, it is unless your child keeps throwing it in your face like mine does. He's constantly reminding me that I'm well into the one-foot-in the-grave stage of life. Good grief, he only thinks that because he's got his whole life in front of him. I've got a lot of good years left, or at least I like to think so. And it's easy for me to believe that way when I put on some music from the 70's and 80's, rock out, feel like I'm a teenager again. I can dance, sing along and almost feel like a kid again. As long as I stop thinking about that song '1985' by Bowling for Soup my son shared with me once – "Her two kids in high school They tell her that she's uncool 'cause she's still preoccupied with nineteen, nineteen, 1985." The song's pretty funny until you realize it's making fun of my generation as that line clearly shows. Okay, not so good when the next generation thinks it's fine to mock their elders. What ever happened to giving respect to everybody older than you? Boy do I feel like an ancient relic right about now...

*****

I was overhearing a conversation one day, I know, I eavesdrop way too much. I'm starting to think it's an occupational hazard. Or I'm just using that as an excuse to be nosy. Anyway, I heard someone talk about doing something that I'd done previously. Something that I knew would end badly for this person, no matter what her intentions or how hard she tried. So, I sat there for a while, debating if I should go over to a random stranger and say something. You know something along the lines of – "Look, I don't know you. But I know you're an idiot and about to make the biggest mistake of your life..." But the longer I sat there, the more I convinced myself she would never take my words of wisdom. After all, she doesn't know me, I'm a good deal older than her and no one likes being told they're in the wrong. Thus, I continued to eavesdrop as she happily told any and all what she was planning to do. As she left, I had a pang of guilt as I hoped the lesson she was about to learn the hard way wouldn't be too painful. After a while, I realized it was never my place to interfere. We must all find our own path, make our own mistakes, learn our own lessons and grow because of them. Yes, the similar mistake I had made had been hard but I'm better because of it. And something wonderful came out of it. Who am I to take that away from her? It's part of getting older, learning who we are, knowing where we've been, knowing where we want to go. Pain is part of life. Aging ain't fun but it's going to happen no matter what we do...

*****

Okay, I was at a new doctor's office the other day. I filled out that mountain of paper work, again. Why can't they just get that info from every other doctor I've ever been too? Really, not much has changed since the last time I went to a doctor. Then I handed it back to the nice receptionist. She looked at it for a moment and handed me one more form. On the top of this one it said, "A special survey for our special patients". Um, what's that supposed to mean? The first question was, "What is the thing you hate most about getting older?" It was multiple choice: A) Needing glasses to read. – Well, I've needed glasses to read anything since I was a teen. That has nothing to do with getting older. B) Difficulty getting around- Around what? The corner? The world? Okay, how old do these people think I am? Did I put down the wrong birth year on that mountain of paper work? Nope, I'm not filling this thing out. I handed it back to the receptionist, blank. She never said a word. I guess I passed whatever test it was supposed to be. Or my look when I not so gently tossed it back to her was enough to let her know I'm not someone to be messed with. Fine, I may not be a spring chicken but I'm not going gently into that good night. Especially since I'm not even over the hill yet...

Friendship

Me and my best friend...

A friend and I were listening to the radio the other day and a song came on with the lyrics "don't talk to strangers". He turned to me and said something about how I totally don't heed that advice. Nope, I come up with way too many ideas to write about from things I hear from strangers. Now, if I lived in New York City or had a boyfriend who was prone to be jealous, I might rethink talking to almost everyone I run into. Gruff, scary looking biker dude with so many tattoos he no longer looks like he has skin on his arms. Yup, I talked to him at the mall before Christmas. He was sitting alone in the food court slurping a soda. Okay, he wasn't exactly alone. He was with a new stuffed bear. The bear was sitting on the table and the biker dude was having a staring contest with him. I sat at the table next to him with my lunch. Couldn't pass up the opportunity to find out what was up with that guy. Turns out he was shopping for toys for Toys for Tots. I think I seek out the unusual, the slightly off and am just compelled to say "hi". It's not a good idea for everyone but for me it works. I have found some of my best friends by randomly talking to a stranger. In fact, that friend I was listening to the radio with? Yes, I found him by talking to a random stranger...

* ****

I got an email from a friend who was excited about attending a meeting in a city in my state. She ended the email, "You should pop over to the hotel one evening so we can catch up." You may be thinking, "So what's the problem with that"? Well, said city is more than four hours away. I would have to rearrange my whole schedule, get a hotel, etc. She clearly hadn't taken the time to figure out where I live in relation to where her meeting is. So, I replied back, "Stay a few extra days, rent a car, come down and stay with me." I mistakenly thought this would give her the hint I'm nowhere near where she is going to be. Her reply? "What!? Public transportation doesn't go to every suburb? I thought you lived in civilization now?" Okay, she's not getting this. My reply? The Google map showing directions from that city to mine. It's been several days and I haven't heard back from her. Maybe that was a little too harsh and rude of me. But when in unfamiliar territory it's generally best to look at a map before you head out. I think I should find a map for friendship...

*****

What makes a fight a fight? Someone I know was trying to convince me we were in a fight simply because I tried to state my opinion. But to me, stating your case does not a fight make – it creates a discussion. There are two sides of a coin for a reason. No two eyewitnesses ever see the same thing. Everyone should be free to speak their mind. Within reason that is. When it gets to the point when one or both parties are unwilling or unable to see the other's point of view, then yes, a fight's going to happen. However, that's way past the sharing your initial opinion stage. That initial opinion stage was where we were. He stated his opinion and didn't want to hear mine. Okay, fine. I wasn't being rude, or loud, or cutting him off. So why was he jumping to the conclusion we were in a fight? I didn't know. Well, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it's better when someone is just a doormat and never speaks up and just agrees with everything. Sure, and then that person simply holds everything in until one day they blow. Because, let's face it, no one can suppress their opinions forever. No one can smile and nod, all the while grinding their teeth knowing they can't say a thing. At least not for very long can someone hold it in, no something has to give at some point. So, here's to letting everyone say what they want to say, even if they get shot down. Because even a fight is not such a bad thing sometimes...

*****

Ever heard the term fair-weather friend? It's someone who's there for you only during the good times. I was talking with someone the other day who met someone who felt she had lost all her friends. All because she was going through a rough patch. This person was feeling very lonely and abandoned. This was on top of dealing with the problems she was already facing. I've often been told I'm unique in that I will do almost anything for a friend. Need help moving? No problem. Need a place to stay for a week, month, year? I've got you covered. Sick and need help with housework, getting to the doctor, whatever? Yep, I can do that too. Sure, I've been taken advantage of over the years but in the long run I don't mind. It's my nature to be helpful, kind and caring. But why does this have to be such an unusual set of characteristics? Have we watered down the meaning of friendship to the point that we don't know what it means to be a friend anymore? Or are we just so wrapped up in our own lives we never truly let others in? I don't know, but there should never be a place in this world for fair-weather friends...

*****

Have you ever stopped to wonder about the people you see who are sitting alone at a restaurant, coffeeshop or another public place? Are they alone because they want to be or because they couldn't find anyone to go with them? How many people are desperately lonely but don't know how to reach out for friends? I was watching one day as this guy, who must be a total social butterfly, was walking up to complete strangers. Everywhere he went, didn't matter who the person was, the guy stopped and said hi, asked how their day was. He was making sure to spend extra time with those who were by themselves. Now some seemed to find this rather intrusive and a wee bit rude. Others got in the spirit of it and chatted happily with the guy. Okay, I will talk to people in lines, people I see all the time in certain places - but to just go up to any and all random people I see? Nope, I've never done that. But it was interesting to watch. I, after following him around for a bit, decided it may be something I would consider doing in the future. After all, one can't have too many friends, can one?

*****

Remember that song from the 80's, "Don't worry, be happy"? For the most part, it's a good philosophy to live life by. After all, it's not like we can change much by worrying ourselves to death. However, there are somethings that we should be worried about because we can take action. I have this friend who is always saying, "No worry, be happy" to me because he doesn't want me to be concerned about him. But I am very concerned about him for a lot of reasons and I feel there's something I can do to make his life better. But he's so stubborn he usually won't listen to what I try to tell him, thus I worry more. Finally, the other day, I replied that what would make me happy is for him to listen to me. This stopped him in his tracks for about a minute. In the end, his response was to inform me it wasn't my problem. So, I'm left wondering what to do now. How do I break through his stubbornness? How do I get him to see he doesn't have to go it alone? As I was working through this problem in my head, I realized I've rejected help in the past as well. I'm a strong, independent woman and I don't need anyone – well most of the time. Okay, baby steps, less worry, more action. Just quietly do what needs to be done. Anyone have a better idea? Because I know it won't take long for him to figure out that I'm doing all these little things for him. He's going to know that I'm subtly taking over his life...

*****

There's nothing quite like the quiet shared companionship of a deep friendship. You can cook a meal together, instantly knowing which job is yours. You quietly pass utensils, pans, ingredients, etc. around the kitchen. It's a dance that's so choreographed there's no missteps. You can sit and watch TV all night together, knowing all the shows the other person is going to pick. You know what jokes the other is going to find funny, which will fall flat. You know what action scenes will be acceptable and which will seem over-the-top. Even in those moments of silence, it's comfortable like an old pair of shoes. Silence is no longer a long awkward pause in a strained conversation. Everyone needs this kind of relationship in their life – either from a spouse or a friend. No man is an island, we aren't meant to live alone drifting along in a wasteland of solitude and loneliness. We all need the human touch, it's the most basic need which we cry for from infancy. Yet, for some reason, it is so hard for so many of us to find one person we can lean on. The one person we can go to in times of trouble. Or maybe it's we are too afraid to be open, vulnerable, hurt...

*****

I love meeting new people. I purposely strike up conversations with perfect strangers. Within minutes can often find out where they are from and most of their life's story. Okay, you've got me - I've got an ulterior motive here. I feed off people for ideas, both for my novels and my blog. However, I was doing this long before I started writing either of those things. I'm a people person, I love chatting to everyone and anyone. Thus, I can tell you that the waitress who served me one night got her job because she knows the owner's wife. I can tell you what town she's from and quite a bit about her background. What can you tell me about the last waiter/waitress who served you? Can you even remember their name? The color of their hair? How about the other people at the restaurant? Can you remember any of them? That night I was also talking to a nice couple who is engage to be married and their friend. The engaged couple really wants to have their wedding on a certain date. So much so they're willing to wait years for that to happen. Their friend is an aspiring author and lived for a while near where I grew up. We were able to chat for a while about these common bonds. Are you willing to reach out to a stranger to see where the conversation might lead? Yes, it's easier for me to do this since I always walk into situations like this alone. Whereas most people tend to arrive in packs. But as a dog I once had taught me, there is no such thing as a stranger. There are only people you haven't made friends with yet. Okay, I know dogs make friends in a very different way from people...

*****

Have you ever stopped to wonder how many people you know but don't know? You know who I'm talking about – that guy at the gym that you see almost every time you go. You give a head nod and a smile as you pass in the hall. The girl who gets coffee at the coffee shop almost every day at the same time as you do. You give a quick wave or another smile as you walk in and she walks out. But do you even know those people's names? Do you know anything about them other than they workout or what coffee they drink? What would happen if you took a minute to introduce yourself the next time you see them? What's the harm? You already know you have something in common or you wouldn't know/not know them in the first place. It's these little common threads that can build a friendship, a bond that can last a lifetime.

*****

I spent much of the other day in a car with someone I barely know. At first, conversation was awkward, strained. We had grown up in different countries, had lived in different areas of the US as adults. Our experiences were completely different. Our lifestyles are such that it's strange that we meet even now. There seemed to be no common reference points for conversation. Then the radio station started playing the top forty with Casey Kasem from some week in the 1970's. Suddenly everything changed. We both remembered not only listening to that show each week but looking forward to it. As each song came on, we started to share memories related to the song, the time period. How much different our generation was to the kids we see now. We tried to guess which song was going to be next on the chart. We laughed at some of the funny things Casey said. We sang along to the hits of a time long gone by. Funny how music is what it took to show us that we had so much in common after all. So, find a stranger and play some music – you might be pleasantly surprised to find a new friend as well.

*****

I know two people who have nothing in common. They have led such opposite lives it would be hard to even say they're from the same planet. Yet, somehow, they discovered this one thing they share. Yes, one day they were talking and discovered they each had owed the same truck back in the day. No, I'm not talking a similar truck. I mean the exact same truck – year, make, model, color, options, both were even stick shifts. The odds of that must've been something like winning the lottery. I mean that big, crazy lottery worth $550 million. Okay, okay, because of their very different lives, the trucks were used for different reasons. But a bond between these two was there. It just goes to show how if we try hard enough, we can find something we share with just about anyone we meet. So, here's to not clumping with people exactly like ourselves. Here's to exploring our differences until we find a similarity. Here's to embracing diversity for all it's worth. Because in this life we need all the friends we can get.

*****

The other day, I had a huge misunderstanding with someone. This came after I made, what I thought, was a simple statement of fact. This fact was one I'd come to learn over the course of the past several weeks. It was one I now had the confidence, the willingness to state. It was an ugly fact, it doesn't make me happy nor do I like that it's true. But I have come to accept it because I know I can't change it. But the person I made the statement to took it personally, which wasn't my intent. I should've started out my next words with an apology. But I didn't, instead I launched into an explanation of how I'd come to know this truth. I felt then she would understand why I'd made the statement. Needless to say, the conversation ended up so far down the rabbit hole, I think my point was lost. I did end up apologizing and restating my original point, only in different words. But I'm not sure if she understood what I was trying to say. She never responded further. I'm supposed to know how to use words well, I'm a writer after all. Yet, this misunderstand happened. This is why it's so hard to communicate with others. We see things from different perspectives, different experiences, different feelings. She hadn't been going through what I had been. Even if she had, it wouldn't have mattered. We can read the same paragraph and see different things. See a painting and pick out different features. I wish I had the magic wand that would make it so everything would always be understandable. But, wait, maybe I don't because how boring would that be? Wouldn't we all have to be awfully similar to never have misunderstandings? Life would lose a lot of its color...

Kindness

What the world needs now...

Police officers seem to have invaded the little town I'm in. No, it's not some kind of convention. There was an incident, you know the kind that have been making national news a lot. An officer did something in the line of duty and now someone is dead. But this one didn't make big headlines, just local ones. Yet people still came out to protest as some picked a side. Streets were blocked as people marched, most weren't locals. Don't know how they knew to come to our little town, don't think it matters. However, I watched as many locals couldn't have cared less. They just wanted to go about their lives, go to work, shop, get something to eat. Many were complaining about how hard it was to get around town for days. Thus, I began to wonder, how often do we do this in life – simply tuck in and fail to see what's going on around us? We're so focused on ourselves we see nothing we don't want to see. Do nothing out of the norm. See the world around us as only a gray blur as we go whizzing by. But is this good? How can we be so focused on getting what we want and still care for those around us? There are so many hurting people in the world. Most we'll never know about because we fail to see what's right in front of us. So, no, care about something other than doing your normal routine. Act with justice, mercy and be humble as you enter the world today. It's not about picking a side, it's about being human. A little love goes a long way...

*****

I needed to run home yesterday for a few minutes and was surprised to find the yard mowed. A pile of clipping was by the curb waiting to be picked up. There was a stranger with a weed-whacker trimming the edges and a rake leaning against the steps. While I know the yard hadn't been done in a while, it's because I'm still limping from having had foot surgery. I hadn't hired anyone to do it, I would get to it later. Okay, that later had never come and the yard was now a bit of a mess. When he spotted me, he turned the machine off and said hi. Then he said he wanted to do something nice because of the incident that had happened in our town last week. Okay, I knew what he was talking about. The incident that had led to protests and a whole lot of hate. The incident that had led to angry words, angry online posts, angry everything. Plus, an increased police presence all over town. He then stated he wanted to show that not all black people feel the need to hate white people. Well, yeah, I was beginning to get it now. You see, after the incident, as I was walking home one night, two black men were talking on their porch. One said that what needed to happen was to shoot all the white people who came into the neighborhood. Great, just great, I live there in the neighborhood, not like I had an option about being in it. Was I supposed to move at the drop of a hat because of one thing that happened? It was like they thought spreading division and hate was going to help anything. I had nothing to do with the incident, I had been nothing but a good neighbor. But this guy must've heard similar comments. So here he was, a nice black stranger, spreading some love to me, a white lady. This is what I was meaning by what I wrote before – we all need to take action and show more love, more mercy, more humility. Given what's going on we can no longer sit by and watch hate win. When I asked the guy his name, he simply said, "I'm your brother trying to walk the same road." So, thank you, my brother, whoever you are. As I watched you finish my yard, I know how hard you were working because I could see the sweat on your brow. It sure was a hot summer day, I had nothing cold to offer you to drink and I'm sorry for that. You sure didn't pick an easy task to show some kindness with. And yes, we are all on the same journey through life so we might as well be civil to each other as we walk along. Please follow this man's example today, do a random act of kindness to a stranger who is nothing like you. If everyone does we will all win.

*****

Lately I've been running into a lot of people who seem to think it's okay to be rude or unkind just for the heck of it. Take this encounter someone I know had last week. She asked someone if they knew such and such's phone number. Simple yes or no question, right? Well the guy she asked it of apparently thought not because he took this as an opportunity to yell at her.

His response was, "No and why do you expect me to fix all your problems?" and the rant continued from there.

The guy knew she had been having a rather difficult week, well a very difficult couple of weeks if truth be told. Yet, still he took the opportunity to start screaming at her. I could state other examples, but I bet you can think of a few as well. I often have heard that with the age of instant messaging and texting we no longer know how to interact and communicate. But I'm not sure we can use that as an excuse for how uncivilized some people seem to be anymore. Whatever happened to being kind just because? Whatever happened to speaking to people like they were to be treated with respect? No matter who they were? So, think twice before you say something – that old rhyme is wrong, words do hurt.

*****

Do you remember the story of Sam Walton? Many claim that he would dress in bib overalls and drive his beat up old truck even after making it rich. Don't know if it's true, I never met the man. But there are some people who you would just never guess are very well off. Take this woman I know. She dresses modestly, drives an older car. She's very down to earth, will talk to everyone. Then I find out she's put over a million dollars into an educational trust already. And that's not all the money she has. Wow. And she's acting like the money is no big deal because for her it's not part of who she is. While there are others who have a lot less but try to pretend they have much more than they have. You know people like that too I bet. People who have bought that huge house in the best neighborhood. You know the one, the biggest monstrosity in area with all the upgrades. But they ended up house poor because all of their money goes to making those mortgage payments. All they talk about is what 'toy' they have bought recently. All they want is more. As for me, I'm content with what I have – be it in times when I don't have much or times when I have what seems like a lot. Because I know relationships matter more than things. Where do your values lie? Are you content? How do you measure success? Does kindness factor into the equation at all? Or is success only about things? Less really can be more...

*****

So, I vowed to several of my friends to not use my words as a platform to get political. But I've got to say something about inauguration day here in America. We have a new President – love him, hate him, you're stuck with him for four years at least. As I've watched this deeply divided nation get even more divided over the course of this election cycle, I have to wonder why. Are we no longer all in the same boat? If we are, then why are we fighting each other and trying to sink it? You've heard the saying 'a house divided cannot stand' - it was around before Abraham Lincoln said it. It still holds true today but I think most people are ignoring that obvious fact. No matter what, this is one country. There are two very simple rules I try to live by. First, to act justly and to love mercy, to walk humbly with my God. Second, to love my neighbor as myself. When I think about those rules before doing anything it saves me a lot of grief and heartache later. Thus, I do things others view as odd. Talk to people others think I shouldn't. Don't take offense when others think I should. Give to my neighbors more than I really have to give. Not trying to say I'm perfect by any means, just saying if everyone took a big, deep breath and stopped for a moment. Then looked around at who their neighbors are. Who they need to show a little mercy to. Where they need to exercise a little humility. Maybe, just maybe this world would be little bit better.

*****

One day, I was at the grocery store and the rather frazzled, young white woman at the front of the line was frantically digging through her purse. You've seen people like that I'm sure. Eye's getting bugging, hands shaking, lips quivering, head bobbing and shaking. I was sure she was moments away from dumping the whole contents of her rather large bag on the floor.

Finally, she states "I grabbed the wrong purse, my credit card in in the other one. All I have is a few dollars, I'll have to come back. Sorry."

The black man in line behind her, with mind you only a few items compared to her couple of dozen, says, "Add mine to hers."

She tried to give him the few dollars she had pulled out of her pants pocket, but he refused. In this day and age when you can hardly go a day without a news story about how racially divided this country is, I have to wonder – are we? Or have we forgotten that kindness should be something we do as part of who we are. Something as basic as breathing and essential as eating? Hard to be mad at someone who just paid for your dinner. Hope this woman remembers his kindness and returns the favor sometime. So, pay for the coffee for the person behind you. Add a buck to two onto the tip you plan to give your waitress. Put a few extra quarters into the parking meter.

*****

Do you have days where you've planned too much to do and, in the end, didn't accomplish half of it? You fall into bed exhausted, unable to sleep. You toss and turn, too tired to sleep or too troubled with thinking of all the things you still need to do or both. If you have a lot of those kind of days in a row, do you end up stressed out and cranky? During the holiday season especially, we put so much pressure on ourselves. We pull ourselves in so many directions until we are ready to snap. We must do this for our family. We must do this for charity. We must do this for our church. We must do that for our community. Oh, and the mall closes at nine. Then there are those moments when something reminds us what's really important. A child enjoying a donut in the shopping cart as her mom shops. She's licking the frosting, savoring every last bite. A stranger helping someone with their groceries. She's got a cart full, he's just pulled into the lot. Yet, still he takes a few moments to load her car. A friendly smile as someone says "Have a great day." So, take it easy, relax, enjoy the moments as they come. Somehow there just never seem to be enough of them.

*****

 I was at a restaurant the other night and a group at another table suddenly got really quiet. Up until that point, this group of younger people had been rather noisy, laughing and having a great time. I wasn't the only patron that turned a head to look at why the sudden change at this table. A girl near the center held up her phone as far as her arm could reach. Then the group broke into a round of the happy birthday song. A few words in, most of the restaurant joined the group in singing to the unknown person on the other end of the phone. When the song was finished, the girl holding the phone brought it to her ear for a moment. Then she stood up and said, "She says thanks y'all!" Now I've seen people join in singing at a public place when the birthday guy or gal is in the room, but this was a first. I have no idea why the lucky lady wasn't part of the party; however, it was nice that her friends acknowledged her. My guess it was a huge surprise to realize that several dozen strangers were also singing along. Now be honest – how much did it cost anyone in that restaurant to do that simple act of kindness? Would you have joined in or would you have been one of the few who kept eating? Kindness is always the right way to go – so find something you can do today to put a smile on someone's face. Do something that costs you nothing but will mean everything to someone else.

*****

I've lived my life for years in a way that throws most people – I only have today so I try to make the most of it. I don't worry much about tomorrow, I don't make goals if they go very long or aren't very loose. And by that, I mean goals that can be thrown out in two seconds flat if anything changes. Because, let's face it, things change in a heartbeat. I know that today is all I'm guaranteed and I'm going to do everything I can to make it count. This attitude drives one friend of mine nuts.

He's always saying to me, "Put your feet on the ground, not in the clouds."

My response? "What, me worry?!"

To which he replies, "Yes!"

He can't understand why I have no idea where I want to be in five years, ten years. I don't care about that. Because today I have neighbors who I can help with little things. There are issues in my town I can tackle. There are enough problems today that I don't have time to worry about tomorrow. I don't want to come to the end of my life and realize I've spent most of it planning for things that never happened. That I've done nothing. So, how can you make this day count? What can you do to make it better for your family, friends, neighbors, an absolute stranger? Do something, not just plan to do something.

*****

Lately everywhere I go I'm finding these painted rocks around town. They have little sayings or quotes from poems, books, movies on them. Happy little saying, things to make a person smile. I've been finding them on tables, benches, window ledges. Even in odd places that I'm not sure anyone would think to look, like among other stones in landscaping. I've been turning it into a weird "Where's Waldo" game and now I'm actively looking for the stupid things. I'm not sure who painted them, who started putting them around or if in fact, it's all one person. But I'm starting to wonder how many other people are out there trying to find them as well. I'm also starting to wonder why I've never see the same rock twice or a rock in the same place twice. I always leave it for someone else to see, however are others not being that generous? Or are others picking them up and taking them home? Is it stealing to take something that is lying out in the open like that? I lean towards it being theft of public art, sure, I'm probably taking that too far. These are, after all, just small stones that would fit in the palm of anyone's hand. Yet someone is going to a lot of trouble to sprinkle a little bit of sunshine around town...

Road trip

Hit the road, see the country...

Are you a planner or a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of a person? For me it usually depends on the situation. Some things I tend to over plan while others I wing it to the point I get in trouble. But what happens when you start planning a trip with someone and one person is one type and the other is the opposite? Oh, there will conflict, drama, tension – all the things that make up a good story. Who will win the battle? Will they even go? Will they still be friends after this experience? As I've watched this unfold between a planner and a wing it die-hard, I've seen each begin to compromise a little bit.

"Yes, a spare tire for the camper is a good idea."

"No, an exact itinerary would be impossible."

"Okay, stocking up as much food as possible before we leave will give us more time to explore later."

"No, we don't have to take the most direct route or even stay on freeways, we'd miss too much that way."

Sometime compromise is a good thing. Sometimes we can compromise and not lose who we are along the way. Sometimes compromise leads us to learn something. Sometimes compromise just leads to the biggest fight ever...

*****

Do you have places you've gone to for what seems a million times? You cringe at the thought of going there again. You could describe the place down the last blade of grass and know it better than the back of your hand. Yet, what if you went there with a new sense of purpose? You went there not just to see it again but to show it to someone who has never been? To make that person understand the place the way you used to, to see the beauty you used to see, to feel the passion you felt? What about going to your home town or state not as resident but as a tourist with someone else? To be able to experience all that is familiar in a whole new light can truly be an eye-opening experience. It can also be jarring, you realize you are no longer part of something you always were. You have grown, changed, moved on to something different. Even if you still live in the town you grew up in, take the time to show it to a stranger – you'll be glad you did.

*****

So, what would make you just take off on a cross-country road trip? Two guys I talked to were riding newly purchased motorcycles from Florida to Alaska. All because they had recently retired, you know, one of those bucket list trips. They'd always wanted to see the country so off they went. When I asked what their wives thought about the idea, one said she was happy to see him go. While the other guy said she was a little mad. Which wife was the more loving of the two? Hard to say. Two other guys had recently graduated from college and their first jobs hadn't worked out. And well, instead of doing the responsible thing, they sold everything they had. Bought two motorcycles, yeah, great idea. Not. They were driving from Oregon to New Hampshire to go home and live with their parents. Well, that should go over well when they show up at their parents' front door. Another couple had been separated for months. Not by choice. No, the husband had been working a temporary job in the only place he could find. On the other side of the country. Now, he had managed to get a new one in their home state. Thus, instead of flying home, she and the kids had joined him in California. Now, they all were driving him home to North Carolina. None of these people had any kind of plan other than a place they wanted to end up. Each day, they'd look at a map and decide where to go. Forget those great commercials about "Find your park" – it's find your own adventure...

*****

Have you ever gone on a road trip with someone who will not stop except for getting gas? You sit there for hours, hungry, needing a bathroom in the worst way. Feeling trapped, slightly claustrophobic but afraid to say anything? Then, out of the blue, your traveling companion stops illegally in the left turn lane. Why? To use the bathroom in the camper you're towing. Sure, that makes sense. Of all the places you could've stopped in the last six hours, this really is the best spot. While you're grateful for the break, you're horrified at how dangerous it is. But on you go with the rest of the trip, which has turned into something like the show Survivor – cross-country camping edition. At least it's just a road trip and not your whole life. Or is it? Do you live life at that kind of break neck speed – never stopping for anything? Not slowing down to see the sights, enjoy the journey? What ever happened to smelling the roses? Or can you even see them as you are whizzing by? Life is more than just getting to the end...

*****

As I've mentioned before, I've been doing a lot of traveling in the last few years. I think I've seen half the country in the last year. It's okay, I'm an avid people watcher and can always find something to do when I'm on the road. One thing I love to do is read people's shirts. T-shirts are great. They advertise companies, bands, towns, attitudes. They can say where we've been, where we want to go, what we like, what we hate. I, like most people, have a collection of tees from cities I've been on vacation. Shirts that I've won in contests and a few for other various reasons. On days I'm feeling a bit worn down by the grind, I wear a tee from a favorite place with pride as a reminder of a special time. Somehow, a shirt can bring back not only pictures in my mind but sounds and smells as well. Okay, I know I've got a very vivid imagination. It makes me a good writer, that's beside the point. So, what's your favorite T-shirt say? Better yet, what does it say about you? Does it say where you've been? Does it say who you are? Or does it just say, "My parents went to ___ and all I got was this lousy t-shirt"?

*****

I was in twenty something states in about three months. It was a crazy, whirl-wind of a time – no time to stop and enjoy the scenery. I talked to everyone from homeless men down on their luck to millionaires. I saw mountains, plains, rivers, lakes, oceans, deserts. I listened to people rant about what's wrong with this country and praise what' right. And in case you were wondering, no, almost no one I spoke with has the same opinions of what those two things are. But in the end, I can be in the south where a parent is forcing their kid to mow the lawn. Either as punishment for something or just because it's part of his household chores. Or I can be in the west and see a parent doing the same thing. We really are alike in more ways than I think most people would ever even care to realize. So, here's to seeing everything this country has to offer, meeting new people, seeing new places. But most of all, to knowing wherever you decide to hang your hat, it will be home. Well, at least for that moment in time. I'm never sure where I'm going to be next...

*****

I've been doing a lot of traveling in the last few years and I've been noticing something almost everywhere I go. Along the highways and byways of this great country there's trash, lots and lots of trash. Now, out west there's considerably less trash. Well, I guess it makes sense, people there I'm sure were raised as I was. "Leave no trace." "Pack it in, pack it out." Litter has no place in the wilderness, or maybe there just are few people? Whatever the case is, you don't see much trash along the road in Montana or Wyoming. However, in the south, people there apparently don't know what a garbage can is for or how to use one. There's trash everywhere – I won't name states to protect the guilty. How and why did it become okay to use the whole world as a garbage dump? Inquiring minds want to know. Someone told me it's because cities charge so much to remove garbage from properties and dumps are closed to public use. Don't know if that's true. But I hate all of the trash I'm seeing. Thus, all you litter bugs out there, if I see you throw away your gum wrapper be warned I'm going say something. I've had it with the paper blowing in the wind and having to watch my step when I walk. I don't want to see piles of garbage beside every parking lot I happen to be in. Take some pride in where you live. Learn what a trash can is, how to use one.

*****

One week a big festival was happening in the town I live in. Half the streets downtown are blocked to make way for the booths. The other half are impassible because of the extra traffic. No one knows where to go, what's closed and what isn't. It's a wonder there hasn't been a twenty-car pile-up in the middle of town. As I was riding with someone the one day, he was seriously cursing the whole mess. Meanwhile, I was watching drivers weaving in and out of turn lanes. Many of these wayward drivers were missing other cars by the narrowest of margins. These drivers had no idea where to go because there weren't any signs saying what was closed and what wasn't. You either had to know by magic somehow or start to turn after you could see if the road was closed. Why the city hadn't also closed the turn lanes is anybody's guess. Who knows, maybe these officials are wishing to keep a few tourists trapped here forever. Thus adding a few new taxpayers to our ranks. Naw, it's more likely laziness on someone's part. But this is how so many things is life work – we don't know what lies ahead until we run into a dead end or a closed road. We must change course mid-stream and hope we find another way. The possibilities become endless and yes, we may have a few crashes along the way. Yet, when the new road is found it's so often the most perfect path ever. So keep driving forward, but watch out for those pitfalls along the way.

*****

Do you have a dream for something you would love to do when you retire? Or one of those crazy bucket lists with all of those once-in-a-lifetime things you would love to do on it? What if you knew this could be your last year? Would you drop everything and do that dream? Or pick one or two things off that bucket list? Or would you be afraid if you do it would be a signal to everyone, including yourself, you've given up? That you aren't going to fight anymore? There has always been talk about carpe diem and YOLO but how many of us really live like this? We always want to look to the future, even when it seems we may have none. Looking to the future can be good, goals can be good – until they stop us from living life with spontaneity. Sometimes the thing we need the most is to just get in the car and drive. No plans, no cares, no worries – just an end date of when we'll be home. Sometimes we don't even need to know when or if we're going to return...

Thanks for reading!

If you spotted an error, or just want to send me a note please email me at:

leighlincolnauthor@gmail.com

