I feel compelled to write about the abject poverty that I have witnessed while in this southwestern state.
I've now seen many, varying types of poverty in my lifetime, all in the continental United States. Aside from Canada, I've not traveled abroad to witness international poverty, so I cannot compare my impressions with any other country's poor and indigent peoples. I can only speak of that which I've viewed with my own eyes.
Is poverty poverty, no matter where evidence of it is found? I won't even begin to chew on whether or not there is a difference between poverty and being poor.
Is poverty in the eye of the beholder? Possibly.
Would the residents of urban cities, Appalachia, Native American reservations and pueblos be able to agree on a definition of poverty? Probably not.
But......I do know I've witnessed mile after mile of it these past few days. Mile after mile where local residents will tell you the unemployment rate is well over ninety percent and the alcoholism rate matches it.
I also realize that I have zero to complain about........although I'll be churlish from time to time and I'll think I have something to complain about............like the GPS unit.
Ancora imparo
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
New Mexico Trip - Day Five
Weary Traveler
This is my final night in a hotel room and I am road-weary. Weary though I am, I would not trade this experience for anything. I've traveled through country I never dreamed that I would see, I've visited places I've heretofore only heard of, and spent precious time with one of the last direct links to my mother. This trip was on my 'bucket list' - one that I'll always remember.
As I've blogged previously, my SO and I have viewed breathtakingly spectacular country and scenery. True, we have seen bland, high-desert areas, but even those are made lovely by the ever-present mountains in the background and we have been surrounded by mountains at every turn.
I thank God for this trip and I thank my SO for making it possible even though today was further confirmation of my intense dislike of the GPS unit. The good news to myself is that my fond memories will far outshine the evil, wicked, mean and nasty GPS!
Ancora imparo
This is my final night in a hotel room and I am road-weary. Weary though I am, I would not trade this experience for anything. I've traveled through country I never dreamed that I would see, I've visited places I've heretofore only heard of, and spent precious time with one of the last direct links to my mother. This trip was on my 'bucket list' - one that I'll always remember.
As I've blogged previously, my SO and I have viewed breathtakingly spectacular country and scenery. True, we have seen bland, high-desert areas, but even those are made lovely by the ever-present mountains in the background and we have been surrounded by mountains at every turn.
I thank God for this trip and I thank my SO for making it possible even though today was further confirmation of my intense dislike of the GPS unit. The good news to myself is that my fond memories will far outshine the evil, wicked, mean and nasty GPS!
Ancora imparo
Belonging, Part Two
Interestingly enough, since my first post about belonging, one of the women involved in the coffee conversation called to talk with me. I had the opportunity to ask her for any further reflections on the original discussion. She had plenty to say and I found it most insightful.
She mused, as I had, that the feeling of belonging is irretrievably tied to the ability to accept others as they are and where they......not WHO they are.......and she emphasized WHO. Her experience has been that she does not feel as if she belongs in this group she's been spending time with because when she's with them she needs to be someone that she cannot be. She went on to say that she had been trying to become a different person simply to fit in and that she found herself increasingly frustrated - not only with herself but with the group. She also found that when she was herself it was not the image that the group self-portrayed and that she felt so disingenuous that she has decided to stop spending time with the group and its individuals.
After we ended our conversation I took some time to muse about her feelings and observations. While our conversation was upbeat and filled with laughter, I realized that the topic was quite serious and carried, for me, significant import. I had to ask myself if I have ever been a person who tried to fit into a group that was not for me (yes) and had I ever been part of a group that did not welcome and wholeheartedly accept another for who he or she was/is. Sadly, I did recognize that I have been a part of that scenario as well.
I don't have any answers or wisdom to impart to anyone else on this topic of belonging, but I do hope that I can carry a reserve of awareness about my own behavior with and toward others who might be slightly or dramatically different from me.
All that comes to my mind at present is: Due onto others as...........
Ancora imparo
She mused, as I had, that the feeling of belonging is irretrievably tied to the ability to accept others as they are and where they......not WHO they are.......and she emphasized WHO. Her experience has been that she does not feel as if she belongs in this group she's been spending time with because when she's with them she needs to be someone that she cannot be. She went on to say that she had been trying to become a different person simply to fit in and that she found herself increasingly frustrated - not only with herself but with the group. She also found that when she was herself it was not the image that the group self-portrayed and that she felt so disingenuous that she has decided to stop spending time with the group and its individuals.
After we ended our conversation I took some time to muse about her feelings and observations. While our conversation was upbeat and filled with laughter, I realized that the topic was quite serious and carried, for me, significant import. I had to ask myself if I have ever been a person who tried to fit into a group that was not for me (yes) and had I ever been part of a group that did not welcome and wholeheartedly accept another for who he or she was/is. Sadly, I did recognize that I have been a part of that scenario as well.
I don't have any answers or wisdom to impart to anyone else on this topic of belonging, but I do hope that I can carry a reserve of awareness about my own behavior with and toward others who might be slightly or dramatically different from me.
All that comes to my mind at present is: Due onto others as...........
Ancora imparo
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
I Met Gale Storm
Dear Readers:
A few days ago I posted a blog about meeting Gail Storm and said I'd rather meet her than Gale Storm. Unfortunately, yesterday we did meet Gale Storm for the first time and I hope it is the last!
As the regular readers of this blog know, my SO and I are staying on our floating RV, located in a section of the country that has been under a high-wind warning and gale warning on the Bay of Green Bay and Lake Michigan. We've had windy conditions before.....no big deal. In the past, Capt. SO simply (I can say simply because I don't have to do it!) puts out extra lines with snubbers on them and Das Boot weathers the wind rather smoothly. The snubbers normally prevent jerking and severe 'yanking about'. Not this time.
The wind has now been at a sustained forty-five-and-higher mile per hour rate for over twenty-four hours. We've had frequent wind gusts of over sixty miles per hour, plus a fair amount of rain. To be out on the docks, which Capt. SO was most of the time, meant that he was clutching anything he could hang on to in order to remain stationary and he had to crouch way down when out on the finger docks while adjusting or adding lines. Waves were breaking over our pier and fully doused him on a regular basis. We had a fender 'pop' from being wedged between the swim platform and the dock, plus the end of the fresh-water hose was crushed from the same movement. He replaced the smaller fender with a much larger one which, thus far, has been able to withstand the crush of the boat's movement constantly against the dock. The water hose will get replaced today.
Yesterday I weathered (pun intended) the wind just fine......as long as I was out on the upper deck. There I am well protected from the elements, have a good view of what is happening meterologically speaking, can help Capt. SO on the docks and can read and otherwise amuse myself - which is what I did until mid-afternoon. At that point, I tried going below from time to time but found, disappointingly so, that my stomach was not reacting to the boat's pitching and yawing very well. By late afternoon I realized I was 'in trouble' but was reluctant to admit it to Capt. SO.
By dinner time, I felt like the song about the Edmund Fitzgerald, where the cook says to the crew "its been good to know ya". There was no way that cooking was going to take place because the thought of eating was nowhere present in my brain. All I could do was lay on the bed with my eyes closed and try to prevent the inevitable. Even then, each time the boat jerked, which was about every twenty seconds, my stomach jerked with the boat. Capt. SO declared that we were 'abandoning ship' and finding a hotel room for the night. Although my ego as First Mate was sorely bruised, I realized that it was the best move. We hastily threw together an overnight bag and "Got the #$@ out of Dodge".
My stomach just returned to normal about an hour ago.
Capt. SO has been to Das Boot this morning and she is still floating, seemly no worse for the wear. He collected a few important things - like my toothbrush - that were left behind in our haste to pack up last evening. The wind is still howling and is predicted to remain as such until later this afternoon. We'll amuse ourselves 'off boat' until then and hope that the waters in the marina as quiet enough to allow my gastrointestinal state to remain calm.
For now, its back to the hotel room and a visit with my paperback book.
I hope that your world is cool, calm, and collected.
Ancora imparo
A few days ago I posted a blog about meeting Gail Storm and said I'd rather meet her than Gale Storm. Unfortunately, yesterday we did meet Gale Storm for the first time and I hope it is the last!
As the regular readers of this blog know, my SO and I are staying on our floating RV, located in a section of the country that has been under a high-wind warning and gale warning on the Bay of Green Bay and Lake Michigan. We've had windy conditions before.....no big deal. In the past, Capt. SO simply (I can say simply because I don't have to do it!) puts out extra lines with snubbers on them and Das Boot weathers the wind rather smoothly. The snubbers normally prevent jerking and severe 'yanking about'. Not this time.
The wind has now been at a sustained forty-five-and-higher mile per hour rate for over twenty-four hours. We've had frequent wind gusts of over sixty miles per hour, plus a fair amount of rain. To be out on the docks, which Capt. SO was most of the time, meant that he was clutching anything he could hang on to in order to remain stationary and he had to crouch way down when out on the finger docks while adjusting or adding lines. Waves were breaking over our pier and fully doused him on a regular basis. We had a fender 'pop' from being wedged between the swim platform and the dock, plus the end of the fresh-water hose was crushed from the same movement. He replaced the smaller fender with a much larger one which, thus far, has been able to withstand the crush of the boat's movement constantly against the dock. The water hose will get replaced today.
Yesterday I weathered (pun intended) the wind just fine......as long as I was out on the upper deck. There I am well protected from the elements, have a good view of what is happening meterologically speaking, can help Capt. SO on the docks and can read and otherwise amuse myself - which is what I did until mid-afternoon. At that point, I tried going below from time to time but found, disappointingly so, that my stomach was not reacting to the boat's pitching and yawing very well. By late afternoon I realized I was 'in trouble' but was reluctant to admit it to Capt. SO.
By dinner time, I felt like the song about the Edmund Fitzgerald, where the cook says to the crew "its been good to know ya". There was no way that cooking was going to take place because the thought of eating was nowhere present in my brain. All I could do was lay on the bed with my eyes closed and try to prevent the inevitable. Even then, each time the boat jerked, which was about every twenty seconds, my stomach jerked with the boat. Capt. SO declared that we were 'abandoning ship' and finding a hotel room for the night. Although my ego as First Mate was sorely bruised, I realized that it was the best move. We hastily threw together an overnight bag and "Got the #$@ out of Dodge".
My stomach just returned to normal about an hour ago.
Capt. SO has been to Das Boot this morning and she is still floating, seemly no worse for the wear. He collected a few important things - like my toothbrush - that were left behind in our haste to pack up last evening. The wind is still howling and is predicted to remain as such until later this afternoon. We'll amuse ourselves 'off boat' until then and hope that the waters in the marina as quiet enough to allow my gastrointestinal state to remain calm.
For now, its back to the hotel room and a visit with my paperback book.
I hope that your world is cool, calm, and collected.
Ancora imparo
Monday, September 28, 2009
Belonging, Part One
Conversations with people are always a source for blog postings. Talking with others - I mean listening to others - is a slice of Americana that is spontaneous and non-replicable. Regardless of the geography, we humans behave like humans predictably.
Now, I have learned that geography can make a difference in topic and tone of conversation, as can spendable income, but that is a blog topic for another day. A recent chat with two other women centered around the feeling of belonging. One of the women was decidedly ambivalent about whether or not she belonged in a particular social group that she had been spending time with. She explained that she found the others likable and friendly but that there didn't seem to be any substantive commonality upon which to build a deeper friendship beyond surface pleasantries. This conversation took place over coffee and the three of us smiled a lot and were very cordial with one another but - yes, there is a but here - after we parted and each went our separate ways, my head was spinning in thought.
I am not immune to the feeling of wanting to belong. I don't think any rational human being can escape wanting or even needing to be connected to some group or other individual. Perhaps what is also involved here is the human-nature trait of exclusion/acceptance. These traits are intricately involved and intertwined.
Hmmmm, my brain is heavy with thought with fodder for Belonging, Part Two.
Stay tuned.
Ancora imparo
Now, I have learned that geography can make a difference in topic and tone of conversation, as can spendable income, but that is a blog topic for another day. A recent chat with two other women centered around the feeling of belonging. One of the women was decidedly ambivalent about whether or not she belonged in a particular social group that she had been spending time with. She explained that she found the others likable and friendly but that there didn't seem to be any substantive commonality upon which to build a deeper friendship beyond surface pleasantries. This conversation took place over coffee and the three of us smiled a lot and were very cordial with one another but - yes, there is a but here - after we parted and each went our separate ways, my head was spinning in thought.
I am not immune to the feeling of wanting to belong. I don't think any rational human being can escape wanting or even needing to be connected to some group or other individual. Perhaps what is also involved here is the human-nature trait of exclusion/acceptance. These traits are intricately involved and intertwined.
Hmmmm, my brain is heavy with thought with fodder for Belonging, Part Two.
Stay tuned.
Ancora imparo
Sunday, September 27, 2009
The Peaceable Kingdom
New Mexico Trip posting: Day Four
The vistas are incredible...........In every direction I look I can see for hundreds of miles, usually with differing topography at each turn. I see low-desert areas, plateaus that appear to have been precisely shaved off by machine, stone outcroppings lifted seemingly from nowhere, tall mountain peaks.........all within a three-hundred and sixty degree radius.
It is as if I have been placed in the middle of God's Peaceable Kingdom and am viewing His masterful strokes first-hand. I am amazed at the power of God's creativity and the passage of thousands, no - millions, of years of geologic movement.
This is mid and northern New Mexico and I am seeing the beauty of our nation right in front of my eyes. My fingertips have touched lava eruptions perhaps millions of years old. The vastness of this land is indescribable. My words seem a puny effort in retrospect.
Ancora imparo
The vistas are incredible...........In every direction I look I can see for hundreds of miles, usually with differing topography at each turn. I see low-desert areas, plateaus that appear to have been precisely shaved off by machine, stone outcroppings lifted seemingly from nowhere, tall mountain peaks.........all within a three-hundred and sixty degree radius.
It is as if I have been placed in the middle of God's Peaceable Kingdom and am viewing His masterful strokes first-hand. I am amazed at the power of God's creativity and the passage of thousands, no - millions, of years of geologic movement.
This is mid and northern New Mexico and I am seeing the beauty of our nation right in front of my eyes. My fingertips have touched lava eruptions perhaps millions of years old. The vastness of this land is indescribable. My words seem a puny effort in retrospect.
Ancora imparo
Wish It Was Gail
In the 1950's there was an actress named Gail Storm who starred in the television series, "My Little Margie". As a young child (redundant), I remember really enjoying the show and would look forward to the day and time it would appear on the screen of our very old television set.
As an adult boater, I see irony in the name Gail Storm. A gale is a weather term that is not looked upon favorably by boaters and that is exactly what is posted by the National Weather Service for the area in which our aqua RV is docked. Our aqua RV is about to ride through, albeit docked, a gale storm, which is predicted to last through Monday night. The wave action has been steadily building all morning and the white caps are clearly visible on the bay.
As an aside, further irony is that in National Weather Service jargon, a storm is actually a higher wind situation than a gale. Go figure that one. That is government bureaucracy at its finest!
This will be the first time that my SO and I have actually been staying on the boat during gale winds. We've been here during many high-wind days and nights, but not during an actual gale posting by the Weather Service. Many boat owners, including SO, have been preparing their crafts for the wind and water surges that will occur as a result of wind direction. Canvas snaps and zippers have been checked and rechecked, in some cases boats have been moved from their normal slips to slips where the boats will be less affected by the wind, extra lines and snubber lines have been added to reduce the jerking effect created by wave surges, and any loose equipment has been either removed or battened down. This is what 'batten down the hatches' means.
To compound weather-related issues is the fact that nasty storms are predicted to accompany the wind. Straight-line wind possibilities exist within the weather forecast for the next thirty hours.
I'd much rather be meeting Gail Storm instead of a gale storm.
Ancora imparo
As an adult boater, I see irony in the name Gail Storm. A gale is a weather term that is not looked upon favorably by boaters and that is exactly what is posted by the National Weather Service for the area in which our aqua RV is docked. Our aqua RV is about to ride through, albeit docked, a gale storm, which is predicted to last through Monday night. The wave action has been steadily building all morning and the white caps are clearly visible on the bay.
As an aside, further irony is that in National Weather Service jargon, a storm is actually a higher wind situation than a gale. Go figure that one. That is government bureaucracy at its finest!
This will be the first time that my SO and I have actually been staying on the boat during gale winds. We've been here during many high-wind days and nights, but not during an actual gale posting by the Weather Service. Many boat owners, including SO, have been preparing their crafts for the wind and water surges that will occur as a result of wind direction. Canvas snaps and zippers have been checked and rechecked, in some cases boats have been moved from their normal slips to slips where the boats will be less affected by the wind, extra lines and snubber lines have been added to reduce the jerking effect created by wave surges, and any loose equipment has been either removed or battened down. This is what 'batten down the hatches' means.
To compound weather-related issues is the fact that nasty storms are predicted to accompany the wind. Straight-line wind possibilities exist within the weather forecast for the next thirty hours.
I'd much rather be meeting Gail Storm instead of a gale storm.
Ancora imparo
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Evil, Wicked, Mean and Nasty
New Mexico Trip, Day Three Entry
I don't mean to sound petulant, but I despise, abhor and detest our portable GPS navigation unit. It is ornery, quirky, overly-sensitive to the touch, not intuitive, etc., etc., etc.
Now I'll tell you how I really feel about it.
It doesn't shut off willingly. In fact, I think there must be an evil spirit living within it. I can push the power button repeatedly and the machine refuses to shut off. In the meantime, my SO, who is trying to drive and supervise me simultaneously, is certain that I have not depressed the correct button. So be sure.......I gently hand him the unit, he pushes the button and the unit shuts down immediately.
FURTHERMORE, the GPS screen is so touch-sensitive that even brushing it ever-so-slightly results in the display changing to a new view. Conversely, if I'm trying to type in a name under the "spell" link, the unit seems impervious to touch, producing an incorrect word from just two letters entered. As I mentioned, it has a mind of its own.
I am going on record as stating that our portable navigation unit is evil, wicked, mean and nasty.
There, I feel better.
Ancora imparo
I don't mean to sound petulant, but I despise, abhor and detest our portable GPS navigation unit. It is ornery, quirky, overly-sensitive to the touch, not intuitive, etc., etc., etc.
Now I'll tell you how I really feel about it.
It doesn't shut off willingly. In fact, I think there must be an evil spirit living within it. I can push the power button repeatedly and the machine refuses to shut off. In the meantime, my SO, who is trying to drive and supervise me simultaneously, is certain that I have not depressed the correct button. So be sure.......I gently hand him the unit, he pushes the button and the unit shuts down immediately.
FURTHERMORE, the GPS screen is so touch-sensitive that even brushing it ever-so-slightly results in the display changing to a new view. Conversely, if I'm trying to type in a name under the "spell" link, the unit seems impervious to touch, producing an incorrect word from just two letters entered. As I mentioned, it has a mind of its own.
I am going on record as stating that our portable navigation unit is evil, wicked, mean and nasty.
There, I feel better.
Ancora imparo
"If I Ruled The World"
The rock group, Coldplay, has a song entitled, I think, "If I Ruled The World". It caught my ear with its catchy backbeat and melody and I recently added it to my I-tunes play list. As with most of my play list, a good melody can reside in my head for days or even weeks, making appearances at the strangest of times, often staying for hours at a time......somewhere 'there' in my medula oblongata.
(You see, men, I never have an empty "box".)
"If I Ruled The World" has curiously thoughtful lyrics, in some respects, bizarre, in others. But the concept has given me pause for reflection.....also at the strangest of times.
So I sat down with the thought of so what if I did rule the world? What if any one person really ruled the world. It is not a responsibility that I would ever covet or want. In fact, the only reason I'd ever accept the responsibility would be if the next person in line was less adept at the job than I would be. The job would be far more daunting than being the leader of the United States and that job is thankless and more window dressing than substance.
There are so many facets of life on this planet that, no matter how much we rattle our sabres, wring our hands and loudly lament, will never change and then I wonder if that is the supreme plan anyway? Are we humans even or ever destined to be able to purge pestilence, disease, inequality, poverty, war, hatred from this earth?
Such heavy questions in my head today and all because of one song about ruling the world. I think that perhaps I should turn to songs of The Wiggles or Barney today. More like "I love you, you love me, we're a happy family".............
Ancora imparo
(You see, men, I never have an empty "box".)
"If I Ruled The World" has curiously thoughtful lyrics, in some respects, bizarre, in others. But the concept has given me pause for reflection.....also at the strangest of times.
So I sat down with the thought of so what if I did rule the world? What if any one person really ruled the world. It is not a responsibility that I would ever covet or want. In fact, the only reason I'd ever accept the responsibility would be if the next person in line was less adept at the job than I would be. The job would be far more daunting than being the leader of the United States and that job is thankless and more window dressing than substance.
There are so many facets of life on this planet that, no matter how much we rattle our sabres, wring our hands and loudly lament, will never change and then I wonder if that is the supreme plan anyway? Are we humans even or ever destined to be able to purge pestilence, disease, inequality, poverty, war, hatred from this earth?
Such heavy questions in my head today and all because of one song about ruling the world. I think that perhaps I should turn to songs of The Wiggles or Barney today. More like "I love you, you love me, we're a happy family".............
Ancora imparo
Friday, September 25, 2009
On Overload
Second day of New Mexico 'Bucket List' Trip:
We're on sensory overload.
Today we did a five-hour exploration of the "Plaza" District in downtown Santa Fe, New Mexico. According to the print media, Santa Fe is an art mecca of the world and I believe it!
In five hours we barely scratched the surface of the Plaza, and I do mean barely. You could take up residence for one year in Santa Fe and still not do the Plaza justice. And, that is just the Plaza. Everywhere you turn, in Santa Fe and outlying areas, there is gallery upon gallery, offering a dazzling and dizzying array of art mediums: Painting, sculpting, jewelry design, carving, raku, pottery, glass blowing.......just to name a few.
The quality of art here in New Mexico is surpassed only by the quantity. We've seen exquisite after exquisite piece. Unfortunately, our budget is a beer-based budget but our appetites run more to the high-end champagne taste. We viewed many pieces, both large and very small, easily between $2,000.00 and $10,000.00. Prices that gave us pause and elicited quick intakes of breath!
Tomorrow we will continue our exploration of the Santa Fe area. Just the adventure of visiting a new area of the country is a thrill in and of itself. New galleries and restaurants await!
Ancora imparo
We're on sensory overload.
Today we did a five-hour exploration of the "Plaza" District in downtown Santa Fe, New Mexico. According to the print media, Santa Fe is an art mecca of the world and I believe it!
In five hours we barely scratched the surface of the Plaza, and I do mean barely. You could take up residence for one year in Santa Fe and still not do the Plaza justice. And, that is just the Plaza. Everywhere you turn, in Santa Fe and outlying areas, there is gallery upon gallery, offering a dazzling and dizzying array of art mediums: Painting, sculpting, jewelry design, carving, raku, pottery, glass blowing.......just to name a few.
The quality of art here in New Mexico is surpassed only by the quantity. We've seen exquisite after exquisite piece. Unfortunately, our budget is a beer-based budget but our appetites run more to the high-end champagne taste. We viewed many pieces, both large and very small, easily between $2,000.00 and $10,000.00. Prices that gave us pause and elicited quick intakes of breath!
Tomorrow we will continue our exploration of the Santa Fe area. Just the adventure of visiting a new area of the country is a thrill in and of itself. New galleries and restaurants await!
Ancora imparo
Rote, Baby, Rote
My SO and I have different learning styles and learning paths. There's nothing unusual about that, I'm sure. If you took an auditorium full of people, there would be almost as many learning styles as people. Each of us has a different method for comprehension of material and retention of facts.
My SO absorbs certain facts and material exceptionally rapidly. If mechanics, electrics, mathematics, any kind of science or electronics are involved, he is a quick study, committing procedures and protocols quickly to memory, as well as understanding the process(es) that are happening.
When it comes to most ANYTHING related to mechanics, electrics, mathematics, science of any kind, or electronics, for the most part, my learning style is rote......repetition, repetition, repetition. I can learn a procedure but if I have not repeated the motion several times within a short period of time, or do not complete the procedure on a regular, daily basis, then my synapses become disconnected and I must re-learn the procedure once again. You can take this fact about me to the bank. I am very consistent. If I write down the steps necessary to complete the procedure then I will NEVER learn it because my brain doesn't work that way.
My style of learning is quite inexplicable to one whose brain synapses connect instantly and stay connected.
What can I say?
On behalf of all of us in the world who are rote learners and whose synapses become easily disconnect (regarding certain topics), I present the case that we do have other gifts and talents, albeit not always useful ones. We can usually dredge up facts and trivia from the depths of our brains that others can only wish to remember.
I may not be able to recall, on any regular basis, how to rev up boats engines while keeping them in neutral, but I can whip the behind of many when it comes to Trivial Pursuit.
I am, first and foremost, in pursuit of trivia and proud of it!
Ancora imparo
My SO absorbs certain facts and material exceptionally rapidly. If mechanics, electrics, mathematics, any kind of science or electronics are involved, he is a quick study, committing procedures and protocols quickly to memory, as well as understanding the process(es) that are happening.
When it comes to most ANYTHING related to mechanics, electrics, mathematics, science of any kind, or electronics, for the most part, my learning style is rote......repetition, repetition, repetition. I can learn a procedure but if I have not repeated the motion several times within a short period of time, or do not complete the procedure on a regular, daily basis, then my synapses become disconnected and I must re-learn the procedure once again. You can take this fact about me to the bank. I am very consistent. If I write down the steps necessary to complete the procedure then I will NEVER learn it because my brain doesn't work that way.
My style of learning is quite inexplicable to one whose brain synapses connect instantly and stay connected.
What can I say?
On behalf of all of us in the world who are rote learners and whose synapses become easily disconnect (regarding certain topics), I present the case that we do have other gifts and talents, albeit not always useful ones. We can usually dredge up facts and trivia from the depths of our brains that others can only wish to remember.
I may not be able to recall, on any regular basis, how to rev up boats engines while keeping them in neutral, but I can whip the behind of many when it comes to Trivial Pursuit.
I am, first and foremost, in pursuit of trivia and proud of it!
Ancora imparo
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Middle-Age Warranty Issues
Much has been written about middle-age......how fulfilling it can be, how it is the best years of a person's life, blah, blah, blah. For the most part, I find this to be partially true. (How is that for an inconsistent statement? It almost borders on oxymoronism.)
What troubles me is that many of my body parts have expiring warranties and really need extended warranty coverage. I could list innumerable body parts and body systems that are not quite what they used to be - some of which would be considered in poor taste. I am discovering that there is an unending supply of products for sale to improve these expiring parts or reverse the deterioration process. Why, if I watch one hour of cable television, I can see no less than five or six products purported to remove age spots, make wrinkles disappear, tighten skin in various places, reduce body fat, even out skin tones, and give me more energy. I could spend thousands of dollars a year trying to look decades younger. As I contemplate this probability, I can see that if all middle-aged men and women purchased these products, we could quickly improve our economy on many levels as well as bring a boon to the home-builders industry simply with the need for increased storage space in which to house all of these products......a win/win situation don't you think?
I'm excited about the possibility of looking twenty years younger in three weeks! If any of these products work, I'll be sure to let you know!
Ancora imparo
What troubles me is that many of my body parts have expiring warranties and really need extended warranty coverage. I could list innumerable body parts and body systems that are not quite what they used to be - some of which would be considered in poor taste. I am discovering that there is an unending supply of products for sale to improve these expiring parts or reverse the deterioration process. Why, if I watch one hour of cable television, I can see no less than five or six products purported to remove age spots, make wrinkles disappear, tighten skin in various places, reduce body fat, even out skin tones, and give me more energy. I could spend thousands of dollars a year trying to look decades younger. As I contemplate this probability, I can see that if all middle-aged men and women purchased these products, we could quickly improve our economy on many levels as well as bring a boon to the home-builders industry simply with the need for increased storage space in which to house all of these products......a win/win situation don't you think?
I'm excited about the possibility of looking twenty years younger in three weeks! If any of these products work, I'll be sure to let you know!
Ancora imparo
Why Have A Rule?
Dear Readers:
This posting is from the first day of our trip to New Mexico. I was operating on approximately four hours of sleep, which is a tad less than I really do best on. It was written on small pages of a pocket notebook pad of paper, about forty-five minutes into a two and a half hour flight from Chicago to Denver. My reflections were as follows: (Keep in mind the whole lack-of-sleep issue.)
I am not a lover of rules but I do understand the need for them. Having been an educator in a discipline where all the students in my classroom had a noise-maker in their hands (band), I had to have classroom rules or 'guidelines' simply to keep some semblance of order and enable the students to become a unit that could operate as one, thereby giving the students the best chance for success.
In general, I believe that most humans will respect rules that were created from a common-sense approach. I also believe that rules will be more consistently adhered to and respected when the rules are CONSISTENTLY enforced, applied and/or followed by the people or person who created the rule(s). To personalize this, I must lead by example and I cannot expect others to follow the rules when I disregard them myself.
I also believe that if a stated rule is not consistently enforced then why should it exist in the first place. Allow me to apply this to the airline industry.
The carry-on baggage 'guidelines' seem to be fragrantly ignored by both the passengers and the airline industry employees. I have a good spatial concept of the printed size limitations for passengers to follow and I can say, without hesitation, that this is consistently and patently ignored on a high-percentage basis. Also largely ignored is the number-of-carry-on-bags limit. As I sat and observed the passengers entering and deplaning, I was astounded at the number of 'things' passengers were lugging and toting. Furthermore, sitting on the plane watching people try to stuff their carry-on luggage into the overhead bins was worthy of a Saturday Night Live skit. Never was people-watching so much fun.
But, back to the whole rule 'thing'. As far as I can see, the airline industry rules about the size and number of carry-on luggage is a farce and the passengers know it.
I refer to my posting title: Why have a rule...............
Ancora imparo
This posting is from the first day of our trip to New Mexico. I was operating on approximately four hours of sleep, which is a tad less than I really do best on. It was written on small pages of a pocket notebook pad of paper, about forty-five minutes into a two and a half hour flight from Chicago to Denver. My reflections were as follows: (Keep in mind the whole lack-of-sleep issue.)
I am not a lover of rules but I do understand the need for them. Having been an educator in a discipline where all the students in my classroom had a noise-maker in their hands (band), I had to have classroom rules or 'guidelines' simply to keep some semblance of order and enable the students to become a unit that could operate as one, thereby giving the students the best chance for success.
In general, I believe that most humans will respect rules that were created from a common-sense approach. I also believe that rules will be more consistently adhered to and respected when the rules are CONSISTENTLY enforced, applied and/or followed by the people or person who created the rule(s). To personalize this, I must lead by example and I cannot expect others to follow the rules when I disregard them myself.
I also believe that if a stated rule is not consistently enforced then why should it exist in the first place. Allow me to apply this to the airline industry.
The carry-on baggage 'guidelines' seem to be fragrantly ignored by both the passengers and the airline industry employees. I have a good spatial concept of the printed size limitations for passengers to follow and I can say, without hesitation, that this is consistently and patently ignored on a high-percentage basis. Also largely ignored is the number-of-carry-on-bags limit. As I sat and observed the passengers entering and deplaning, I was astounded at the number of 'things' passengers were lugging and toting. Furthermore, sitting on the plane watching people try to stuff their carry-on luggage into the overhead bins was worthy of a Saturday Night Live skit. Never was people-watching so much fun.
But, back to the whole rule 'thing'. As far as I can see, the airline industry rules about the size and number of carry-on luggage is a farce and the passengers know it.
I refer to my posting title: Why have a rule...............
Ancora imparo
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Need An Operating Manual
If you are like me, I expect an operating manual to be included with any purchase that is the least bit complicated. I think that is a fair expectation, don't you?
For instance, my new cell phone has a rather thick manual that came with it that I am still digesting. Even the smallest of purchases has instructions with it and often those instructions are printed in several languages. The hair blow-dryer that was in our hotel during our recent trip to New Mexico had instructions printed in Italian, French, English, and German.
Operating instructions help to prevent injuries, frustrations, divorces and homicides. They also save time and enable the purchaser to operate the purchase correctly and efficiently.
It is just logical that operating instructions should be included with any complicated device, machine, or equipment. The Good Lord knows this so how He could allow children to be given to parents without an operating manual is beyond me. Of all of the life experiences that we humans could forsee, having children and being responsible for their upbringing, upkeep, and well-being ranks as number one in heavy-duty responsibility. I realize that the Bible is the only document that serves as a reliable operating manual, but even the Bible is puny in scope compared to the magnitude, latitude and longitude (pun intended) of being a parent.
I don't care how old we parents get, therefore extrapolating from that how old the 'child' gets; parenting often becomes more fun but does not loose its ability to produce stress. We are parents to our last breath and we pray fervently that our children are alive when we breathe our final intake.
There is the key word: pray - unceasingly for our children, their children, and every generation thereafter.
Ancora imparo
For instance, my new cell phone has a rather thick manual that came with it that I am still digesting. Even the smallest of purchases has instructions with it and often those instructions are printed in several languages. The hair blow-dryer that was in our hotel during our recent trip to New Mexico had instructions printed in Italian, French, English, and German.
Operating instructions help to prevent injuries, frustrations, divorces and homicides. They also save time and enable the purchaser to operate the purchase correctly and efficiently.
It is just logical that operating instructions should be included with any complicated device, machine, or equipment. The Good Lord knows this so how He could allow children to be given to parents without an operating manual is beyond me. Of all of the life experiences that we humans could forsee, having children and being responsible for their upbringing, upkeep, and well-being ranks as number one in heavy-duty responsibility. I realize that the Bible is the only document that serves as a reliable operating manual, but even the Bible is puny in scope compared to the magnitude, latitude and longitude (pun intended) of being a parent.
I don't care how old we parents get, therefore extrapolating from that how old the 'child' gets; parenting often becomes more fun but does not loose its ability to produce stress. We are parents to our last breath and we pray fervently that our children are alive when we breathe our final intake.
There is the key word: pray - unceasingly for our children, their children, and every generation thereafter.
Ancora imparo
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
A Part of My Mother
She is tiny, spunky, and unafraid to speak her mind. This bundle of energy lives in her own home, along with her faithful dog, Gigi, and her handsome cat, Jake. She never learned to drive and has no interest in driving. Now, as her friends arrive at that magic age where they are told they should no longer drive and the loss of freedom hits a nerve, she will not experience the pain and is glad of it.
She and I are first cousins - we shared the same grandparents - even though there is almost nineteen years difference in our ages. There are only three first cousins living that are connected to my mother and this perky seventy-something and I make up two-thirds of the special group.
Connecting with the link to my mother and her family has long been a dream of mine. In fact, I had it right at the top of my 'bucket' list. The urge to travel to New Mexico and visit 'Agnes', as I'll call her, had become so strong in recent years that it was a clanging cymbal in my life. The state of New Mexico holds many jewels....literally, figuratively, and relatively. (Pun intended!) 'Agnes' and I have some interesting traits in common - such as being rabid fans of the television show "The Closer". Another show we enjoy in common is CBS's "NCIS". I enjoy the characters and their interactions........she simply finds Mark Harmon "hot" and that is a direct quote from my seventy-something first cousin.
There was never a shortage of blog topics while my SO and I were traveling. Tomorrow I'll begin posting blogs that were written in the state of New Mexico. It is a beautiful state. Visit it if you have the chance.
It is good to be home!
Ancora imparo
She and I are first cousins - we shared the same grandparents - even though there is almost nineteen years difference in our ages. There are only three first cousins living that are connected to my mother and this perky seventy-something and I make up two-thirds of the special group.
Connecting with the link to my mother and her family has long been a dream of mine. In fact, I had it right at the top of my 'bucket' list. The urge to travel to New Mexico and visit 'Agnes', as I'll call her, had become so strong in recent years that it was a clanging cymbal in my life. The state of New Mexico holds many jewels....literally, figuratively, and relatively. (Pun intended!) 'Agnes' and I have some interesting traits in common - such as being rabid fans of the television show "The Closer". Another show we enjoy in common is CBS's "NCIS". I enjoy the characters and their interactions........she simply finds Mark Harmon "hot" and that is a direct quote from my seventy-something first cousin.
There was never a shortage of blog topics while my SO and I were traveling. Tomorrow I'll begin posting blogs that were written in the state of New Mexico. It is a beautiful state. Visit it if you have the chance.
It is good to be home!
Ancora imparo
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Visiting With Mom
I visited with my mother today. No, not in person, unfortunately. My mother died about twenty -five years ago, but there is hardly a day that goes by that she (or my dad) does not make an appearance of some kind in my memory.
My dad is always with me because I have three of his favorite oak chairs in my sun room. My SO uses the rocker, my old, crabby kitty has her bed in the captain's chair and my favorite chair in the whole, wide world is Dad's old Morris chair. I spend lots of time with Dad.
I sense my mom's essence in my office because three of her cherished possessions have permanent residency there. Mom's battered recipe box and her dog-eared Betty Crocker Cookbook grace a shelving unit about five feet away from me. When I am feeling particularly in need of a 'mother-moment', I'll open up her recipe box and slowly go through the three-by-five cards that are yellowing with age. I don't think there is anything more personal than a woman's recipe collection. The cards have her hand-writing and they bespeak of her and my family's food preferences. There are recipes from both my grandmothers and old family friends. It is always a walk down memory lane. But, it is when I sit and sew with my mom's old Singer 401A that I feel the closest to her. When I am perched on my sewing stool, hands touching the metal of the old machine, nose detecting years of sewing machine oil that keep the faithful gears running smoothly, it is as if Mom is seated right next to me. I can still hear her original instructions on how to thread the old 401A just as if I was ten years old and back in 4-H where Mom was my leader. I look forward to my time at mom's sewing machine. I bring a cup of coffee or tea with me and it is as if I'm having a hot beverage with my mom. Oh, how I long to be able to sit down with her and simply chat away like old friends.
OK. That last line brought a little dampness to my eyes. My lesson learned here is one that I already knew.........You're never too old to miss your mother!
Ancora imparo
My dad is always with me because I have three of his favorite oak chairs in my sun room. My SO uses the rocker, my old, crabby kitty has her bed in the captain's chair and my favorite chair in the whole, wide world is Dad's old Morris chair. I spend lots of time with Dad.
I sense my mom's essence in my office because three of her cherished possessions have permanent residency there. Mom's battered recipe box and her dog-eared Betty Crocker Cookbook grace a shelving unit about five feet away from me. When I am feeling particularly in need of a 'mother-moment', I'll open up her recipe box and slowly go through the three-by-five cards that are yellowing with age. I don't think there is anything more personal than a woman's recipe collection. The cards have her hand-writing and they bespeak of her and my family's food preferences. There are recipes from both my grandmothers and old family friends. It is always a walk down memory lane. But, it is when I sit and sew with my mom's old Singer 401A that I feel the closest to her. When I am perched on my sewing stool, hands touching the metal of the old machine, nose detecting years of sewing machine oil that keep the faithful gears running smoothly, it is as if Mom is seated right next to me. I can still hear her original instructions on how to thread the old 401A just as if I was ten years old and back in 4-H where Mom was my leader. I look forward to my time at mom's sewing machine. I bring a cup of coffee or tea with me and it is as if I'm having a hot beverage with my mom. Oh, how I long to be able to sit down with her and simply chat away like old friends.
OK. That last line brought a little dampness to my eyes. My lesson learned here is one that I already knew.........You're never too old to miss your mother!
Ancora imparo
Monday, September 14, 2009
Can't Stay Silent On This
I realize that there are significant issues happening in our world that should attract my attention, that people with whom I am close to or acquainted with need my prayers, that atrocities and inequalities continue to plague the people's of the globe but......there was one media announcement today that caught my attention. An announcement on which I cannot stay silent.
A well-known Fox Television Network, musically-oriented reality show made an announcement, naming the person who would become its newest judge.
I do follow the show, catching its episodes whenever possible, which isn't often, due to my weekly night-schedule. Would you call me a fan? Probably not.....at least not a rabid fan, but I do keep track of the contestants and try to keep myself familiar with who they are and what they sound like. I am, after all, a musician and the show is supposed to be about wanna-be musicians who will get paid for performing.
Heretofore, I've been semi-satisfied with the panelists who, for the most part, have legitimate qualifications for judging others on matters musical. But, this announcement makes no sense to me, musical or otherwise. The end-result of this reality show has tremendous ramifications for the winner and, even, the top-ten (or twelve) finalists. Doesn't it seem logical that the people sitting behind the 'table' should have some musical skill, recording industry experience or musical production background? Simply dancing through an audience does not a musical performer make.
The music-performance industry is full of wanna-be singers who can't sing. It doesn't need an outlet for more of the same. The contestants who claw their way to the top of this reality show deserve having comments made about them that could actually improve their performance and musicianship, not just comic observations that draw chuckles from the live audience and at-home viewers.
Having had my say.........
Ancora imparo
A well-known Fox Television Network, musically-oriented reality show made an announcement, naming the person who would become its newest judge.
I do follow the show, catching its episodes whenever possible, which isn't often, due to my weekly night-schedule. Would you call me a fan? Probably not.....at least not a rabid fan, but I do keep track of the contestants and try to keep myself familiar with who they are and what they sound like. I am, after all, a musician and the show is supposed to be about wanna-be musicians who will get paid for performing.
Heretofore, I've been semi-satisfied with the panelists who, for the most part, have legitimate qualifications for judging others on matters musical. But, this announcement makes no sense to me, musical or otherwise. The end-result of this reality show has tremendous ramifications for the winner and, even, the top-ten (or twelve) finalists. Doesn't it seem logical that the people sitting behind the 'table' should have some musical skill, recording industry experience or musical production background? Simply dancing through an audience does not a musical performer make.
The music-performance industry is full of wanna-be singers who can't sing. It doesn't need an outlet for more of the same. The contestants who claw their way to the top of this reality show deserve having comments made about them that could actually improve their performance and musicianship, not just comic observations that draw chuckles from the live audience and at-home viewers.
Having had my say.........
Ancora imparo
Sunday, September 13, 2009
The Power of Speech
The words that we humans use to communicate with one another are so very powerful. The words that are chosen carry tremendous ammunition that can either heal, uplilft, wound, anger, or degrade. We hold the power of choice to use words for a positive effect or for a negative effect.
Between the newspaper, the television, and internet, recorded instances of word power have recently come to light, as happens on a daily basis. For example, a world-ranked tennis star looses by one point because she cannot control her tongue; a nationally-elected politician chooses to yell inappropriate words at an inappropriate time at the Great Illusionist; a local figure blasts a local leader and feels the need to pepper his speech with profanity; a grieving bride-to-be gives a eulogy for her intended in the church where they were to have wed that very day; a married couple is caught on tape in a conversation that demeans both of them instead of building their marriage up. These instances are but a tip of a giant iceberg of incivility toward each other - to strangers, co-workers, those we should respect regardless of our ideological beliefs, and to loved ones. There are thousands, maybe millions, of conversations occurring each day that we never hear about where humans berate each other, leaving a sour taste of bitterness or anger in the memory of the one on the receiving end.
As a race, let us humans clean up our language to each other and learn to disagree with civility and respect. It is OK to disagree but let us agree to disagree with mutual respect. We might become better listeners.
Ancora imparo
Between the newspaper, the television, and internet, recorded instances of word power have recently come to light, as happens on a daily basis. For example, a world-ranked tennis star looses by one point because she cannot control her tongue; a nationally-elected politician chooses to yell inappropriate words at an inappropriate time at the Great Illusionist; a local figure blasts a local leader and feels the need to pepper his speech with profanity; a grieving bride-to-be gives a eulogy for her intended in the church where they were to have wed that very day; a married couple is caught on tape in a conversation that demeans both of them instead of building their marriage up. These instances are but a tip of a giant iceberg of incivility toward each other - to strangers, co-workers, those we should respect regardless of our ideological beliefs, and to loved ones. There are thousands, maybe millions, of conversations occurring each day that we never hear about where humans berate each other, leaving a sour taste of bitterness or anger in the memory of the one on the receiving end.
As a race, let us humans clean up our language to each other and learn to disagree with civility and respect. It is OK to disagree but let us agree to disagree with mutual respect. We might become better listeners.
Ancora imparo
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Fascinating
Our English language continues to fascinate me, as well it should, because I really know so little about it. But what I do know, and continue to learn, makes me realize why immigrants learning our language have such difficulty.
Here are two categories of linguistic nuances that have recently caught my attention:
The same pronunciation but with vastly different meanings with different spellings.
This category could really get you into trouble.
Route and root.
Route and rout. (This one could make or break a conversation!)
Hostile and hostel. (These are polar opposites in intention. One is a place of welcome and the other would be a place totally without welcome.)
Another one of my favorite nuance categories is the same word with different meanings depending on what syllable we place our verbal emphasis.
Today's word is combine.
If I combine two fields of soy beans, I will have double the harvest yield. (Here I've said nothing about the actual harvesting of the soy beans. I'm simply speaking about adding two fields together, whether actual or in my head.)
If I combine the two fields of soy beans this means that I am speaking about the actual harvesting of the soy beans and my yield will be set once the action is complete. There is no future approximation of what I my yield will be.
Capice?
That's enough thinking for today. I gave myself a headache.
Ancora imparo
Here are two categories of linguistic nuances that have recently caught my attention:
The same pronunciation but with vastly different meanings with different spellings.
This category could really get you into trouble.
Route and root.
Route and rout. (This one could make or break a conversation!)
Hostile and hostel. (These are polar opposites in intention. One is a place of welcome and the other would be a place totally without welcome.)
Another one of my favorite nuance categories is the same word with different meanings depending on what syllable we place our verbal emphasis.
Today's word is combine.
If I combine two fields of soy beans, I will have double the harvest yield. (Here I've said nothing about the actual harvesting of the soy beans. I'm simply speaking about adding two fields together, whether actual or in my head.)
If I combine the two fields of soy beans this means that I am speaking about the actual harvesting of the soy beans and my yield will be set once the action is complete. There is no future approximation of what I my yield will be.
Capice?
That's enough thinking for today. I gave myself a headache.
Ancora imparo
Friday, September 11, 2009
Blogging About A Blog
I've never blogged about a blog before......at least not that I can remember.......but the blog about which I am about to blog is amazing.
There is this amazing young man that is taking a road trip to New York City for the weekend - that's right, the weekend - and he is doing a live, photo-blog that is being constantly updated. Here I sit in my Midwest home, at my simple laptop, typing away. This feels so.....dated, so yesterday, so last year. I can't keep up with the whippersnappers of this world.
When I used the word 'amazing' to describe him, that was an understatement. He is technologically advanced beyond my ken. In fact, his level of technological accomplishment is unfathomable to me.
So, I will repeat myself because that is what old people do.....we repeat ourselves! Here I sit at my laptop, chipping away with chisel and rock, creating print images that represent a form of communication rapidly becoming outdated and, perhaps, obsolete. And to think that just several weeks ago I was thrilled to get a new cell phone that I could send text messages with using both my thumbs.
Oh, I have to go. My oxen are ready to get hooked up to the tiller. We have to plow the fields in order to plant the grain so we can harvest the wheat so we can grind it to make flour so we can bake loaves of bread over the fire pit in the summer kitchen. Then I will haul the water from the stream to boil water so I can hand wash the clothes whilst my hunter-gatherer SO stalks his prey so we can have food to eat.
Ancora imparo
There is this amazing young man that is taking a road trip to New York City for the weekend - that's right, the weekend - and he is doing a live, photo-blog that is being constantly updated. Here I sit in my Midwest home, at my simple laptop, typing away. This feels so.....dated, so yesterday, so last year. I can't keep up with the whippersnappers of this world.
When I used the word 'amazing' to describe him, that was an understatement. He is technologically advanced beyond my ken. In fact, his level of technological accomplishment is unfathomable to me.
So, I will repeat myself because that is what old people do.....we repeat ourselves! Here I sit at my laptop, chipping away with chisel and rock, creating print images that represent a form of communication rapidly becoming outdated and, perhaps, obsolete. And to think that just several weeks ago I was thrilled to get a new cell phone that I could send text messages with using both my thumbs.
Oh, I have to go. My oxen are ready to get hooked up to the tiller. We have to plow the fields in order to plant the grain so we can harvest the wheat so we can grind it to make flour so we can bake loaves of bread over the fire pit in the summer kitchen. Then I will haul the water from the stream to boil water so I can hand wash the clothes whilst my hunter-gatherer SO stalks his prey so we can have food to eat.
Ancora imparo
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Snake Pit
Health-care reform is the current buzzword in the media as of late and, especially this morning after the Great Illusionist's speech last evening. I did not hear the speech first-hand, but the media wags are dissecting the speech every which way today. Of course, every person feigning expertise has their own agenda which makes it very difficult to sort through the morass of information to ascertain what the 'facts' are. In truth, 'facts' can be made to speak in opposing directions with very little effort.
I recently heard an analogy that compared the health-care reform snake pit to a school district's referendum tax effort. School referendum taxes can be extremely difficult to pass, largely in part to the demographic composition of a school district. Unless the voter has children presently matriculated in the district, the attitude often is, 'Why should I pay for something that I cannot benefit from?' Or, 'I don't have kids in the district anymore, why should I pay for someone else's kids to go to school?'
This attitude does seem to reflect what I hear in conversations, listen to on the radio and television, and read in print. Every demographic has their sandbox-agenda and, by gum, they are going to defend and protect it 'til death do they part.
And yet, last night, I was made painfully aware of the need for some type of overhaul. A young man that my SO and I know was knocked off his bicycle yesterday, unfortunately, on his way to work. (As opposed to injured at work where at least his employer would have covered X-rays and subsequent treatment.) "Tim", I'll call him, is a seasonal worker and has no health insurance, plus probably does not make a very high hourly wage. At twenty-seven years of age, he has served in the military and recently graduated from college. His military service qualifies him for veterans' medical care. That is where the word 'benefit' becomes an oxymoron.
Because he cannot afford to seek medical treatment out of his own pocket, he has to rely on the government-run veterans' care and that is where the snafu becomes obvious and ludicrous. The nearest veterans'-care facility (approx. sixty miles) couldn't see him yesterday so he worked all day with a possible broken wrist because he couldn't afford to lose the wages. He was also told he might have to travel to a veterans'-care facility that is one hundred and fifty miles away for X-rays and treatment. He was given no time line. Just like the military.....hurry up and wait.
This is the same network that is run by people loaded with hubris, contemplating crafting a government-operated health-care system for our nation.
I'm all for reform. As "Tim's" experience demonstrates, it is badly needed plus my SO and I are other examples of another layer of society that is at high risk for loss of insurance benefits. We all know someone that is either uninsured, under-insured or has benefits that are tenuous and at the whim of some non-medical bureaucrat given the power to allow or deny medical coverage. BUT, I am fearful and suspicious, I think for good reason, to have our politicians craft any reform that is user-friendly.
Until our nationally elected officials are forced to experience the health-care snake pit that we citizens must traverse each and every day, there will be no health-care reform. These same nationally elected officials are privileged to have the best health care in the world. They simply have no incentive to spread that benefit downward.
Let's send our snake pit upwards.
Ancora imparo
I recently heard an analogy that compared the health-care reform snake pit to a school district's referendum tax effort. School referendum taxes can be extremely difficult to pass, largely in part to the demographic composition of a school district. Unless the voter has children presently matriculated in the district, the attitude often is, 'Why should I pay for something that I cannot benefit from?' Or, 'I don't have kids in the district anymore, why should I pay for someone else's kids to go to school?'
This attitude does seem to reflect what I hear in conversations, listen to on the radio and television, and read in print. Every demographic has their sandbox-agenda and, by gum, they are going to defend and protect it 'til death do they part.
And yet, last night, I was made painfully aware of the need for some type of overhaul. A young man that my SO and I know was knocked off his bicycle yesterday, unfortunately, on his way to work. (As opposed to injured at work where at least his employer would have covered X-rays and subsequent treatment.) "Tim", I'll call him, is a seasonal worker and has no health insurance, plus probably does not make a very high hourly wage. At twenty-seven years of age, he has served in the military and recently graduated from college. His military service qualifies him for veterans' medical care. That is where the word 'benefit' becomes an oxymoron.
Because he cannot afford to seek medical treatment out of his own pocket, he has to rely on the government-run veterans' care and that is where the snafu becomes obvious and ludicrous. The nearest veterans'-care facility (approx. sixty miles) couldn't see him yesterday so he worked all day with a possible broken wrist because he couldn't afford to lose the wages. He was also told he might have to travel to a veterans'-care facility that is one hundred and fifty miles away for X-rays and treatment. He was given no time line. Just like the military.....hurry up and wait.
This is the same network that is run by people loaded with hubris, contemplating crafting a government-operated health-care system for our nation.
I'm all for reform. As "Tim's" experience demonstrates, it is badly needed plus my SO and I are other examples of another layer of society that is at high risk for loss of insurance benefits. We all know someone that is either uninsured, under-insured or has benefits that are tenuous and at the whim of some non-medical bureaucrat given the power to allow or deny medical coverage. BUT, I am fearful and suspicious, I think for good reason, to have our politicians craft any reform that is user-friendly.
Until our nationally elected officials are forced to experience the health-care snake pit that we citizens must traverse each and every day, there will be no health-care reform. These same nationally elected officials are privileged to have the best health care in the world. They simply have no incentive to spread that benefit downward.
Let's send our snake pit upwards.
Ancora imparo
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Friendship
Over the past several days, my SO and I have had the pleasure of spending time with friends.....good people they are. These opportunities have given me pause to reflect on friendship, the power of it, and the need for it.
Much has been written over the centuries, actually, regarding friendship, but the bulk of the arm-chair psychology information has been written in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. We've heard from a wide variety of authors who have shared their vast knowledge with the public, regardless of their qualifications on the subject. These same authors become published, then trot their books around the talk-show circuits and drone on and on ad nauseum.
We hear about 'How to be a friend'; 'Choosing the right friends'; 'How to find friends', etc. etc. etc. (to quote from "The King and I")
Here's what I know and I don't need a book or psychologist to inform me:
Good friends come in many ages and stages.
Good friends come in many shapes and forms.
Good friends don't always think like I do.
Good friends don't care how thin or fat my wallet is.
A really good friend is one who you may not have spoken with or seen for a long period of time, maybe even years, and when you re-connect it is as if not a day has passed.
A good friend is like my favorite slippers - comfortable, warm and fuzzy.
Good friends can come into your life unexpectedly.
You will know a good friendship when you feel it.
Good friends are a gift from God.
To laugh with a friend is therapeutic.
A good friend(s) is PRICELESS.
Ancora imparo
Much has been written over the centuries, actually, regarding friendship, but the bulk of the arm-chair psychology information has been written in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. We've heard from a wide variety of authors who have shared their vast knowledge with the public, regardless of their qualifications on the subject. These same authors become published, then trot their books around the talk-show circuits and drone on and on ad nauseum.
We hear about 'How to be a friend'; 'Choosing the right friends'; 'How to find friends', etc. etc. etc. (to quote from "The King and I")
Here's what I know and I don't need a book or psychologist to inform me:
Good friends come in many ages and stages.
Good friends come in many shapes and forms.
Good friends don't always think like I do.
Good friends don't care how thin or fat my wallet is.
A really good friend is one who you may not have spoken with or seen for a long period of time, maybe even years, and when you re-connect it is as if not a day has passed.
A good friend is like my favorite slippers - comfortable, warm and fuzzy.
Good friends can come into your life unexpectedly.
You will know a good friendship when you feel it.
Good friends are a gift from God.
To laugh with a friend is therapeutic.
A good friend(s) is PRICELESS.
Ancora imparo
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
I Spy
With GPS device firmly in hand, Captain Geo and his scout, MapGirl led the fledgling cachers confidently through the undergrowth, nimbly sidestepping branches and avoiding rocks and large stones.
"The next cache is .38 miles. We'll take the first hard right on the trail", Capt. Geo announced. Shortly thereafter he stated, "We are within eighteen feet". MapGirl was on high alert and moved quickly ahead of the group. We all spread out, hands over our eyes to filter the sun from our vision. Just as we were beginning to search for "something obviously out of place", MapGirl exclaimed, "There it is!" and removed the camouflage preventing the object from being in plain sight. The vessel was opened, the register filled out, trinkets exchanged, container closed and returned to its original position. We then prepared to locate the next geocache.
We repeated this scenario several times over the next day and a half, achieving some successes and feeling the agony of defeat on others. Geocaches can be subject to carelessness and rarely but occasionally get moved or removed from their original locations. Still, the fun is in the hunt and challenge of following the lat/long coordinates. Even in defeat we felt a sense of satisfaction having enjoyed the surroundings and beauty of the wooded areas we traipsed through.
Captain Geo and MapGirl are superb guides. MapGirl is fearless, moving stealthily through wild areas with determination to find her cache while others sit idly at picnic tables, filling their gullets with tasty food that is, nonetheless, not good for the arteries! Captain Geo takes good care of his number one guide, assuring us that he will verify that there are no ticks on MapGirl as a result of her prairie perambulations.
Captain Geo and MapGirl.........Don't leave home without them!
Ancora imparo
"The next cache is .38 miles. We'll take the first hard right on the trail", Capt. Geo announced. Shortly thereafter he stated, "We are within eighteen feet". MapGirl was on high alert and moved quickly ahead of the group. We all spread out, hands over our eyes to filter the sun from our vision. Just as we were beginning to search for "something obviously out of place", MapGirl exclaimed, "There it is!" and removed the camouflage preventing the object from being in plain sight. The vessel was opened, the register filled out, trinkets exchanged, container closed and returned to its original position. We then prepared to locate the next geocache.
We repeated this scenario several times over the next day and a half, achieving some successes and feeling the agony of defeat on others. Geocaches can be subject to carelessness and rarely but occasionally get moved or removed from their original locations. Still, the fun is in the hunt and challenge of following the lat/long coordinates. Even in defeat we felt a sense of satisfaction having enjoyed the surroundings and beauty of the wooded areas we traipsed through.
Captain Geo and MapGirl are superb guides. MapGirl is fearless, moving stealthily through wild areas with determination to find her cache while others sit idly at picnic tables, filling their gullets with tasty food that is, nonetheless, not good for the arteries! Captain Geo takes good care of his number one guide, assuring us that he will verify that there are no ticks on MapGirl as a result of her prairie perambulations.
Captain Geo and MapGirl.........Don't leave home without them!
Ancora imparo
Monday, September 7, 2009
Life-Caching
OK, so the inference is lame but I hope that I will be able to connect the dots for you.
'Life-caching' is a take-off on 'life-coaching', which you may be familiar with. In life-coaching, you hire a person to help you with your life. Sounds simple, I guess. I've never been life-coached but I know someone who is a life coach. As I understand the process, a life coach helps remove the cobwebs from a person's life, brain, home, relationship(s), etc. Presumably, when one is finished with the life-coaching process, your life-path will be clearer and less cluttered.
This weekend, I geocached for the first time. Geocaching is an environmental sport/activity/game where you use a GPS (global positioning system) to find an exact spot whose lat/long coordinates have been identified and some vessel and/or artifact has been hidden in that exact spot. With a GPS, exact is not an exact science but accurate to within five to ten feet, depending on the sensitivity of the unit a person is using.
Geocache sites must be officially registered and maintained by the person or persons who establish the site. Each geocache site is listed online and identified by its lat/long position, as well as a description and some basic, but cryptic clues. Geocaching is highly organized and has a formal structure surrounding its every detail. All in all, I was very impressed with the procedures and guidelines set up by whatever organization promotes geocaching.
We geocached two days in a row and as I was participating, I came to the conclusion that geocaching was a metaphor for life, hence the title of today's post - 'Life-Caching". When one geocaches, you have to follow instructions, play well with others, cooperate with others, and share with others. In order to meet your goal, you must travel paths you have not previously traveled, you must have clear vision, you must see the forest for the trees, think globally, look through your own 'wide-angle lens', persevere, think creatively, and watch for unusual landmarks toward the end of your journey as thinking outside of the box is necessary to find the prize.
Is that not a metaphor for the way we move through our life stages? For moi, after geocaching, I might have had a few cobwebs on my body and clothing, but there were many fewer cobwebs in my brain. My body soaked up the sun and fresh air infused energy into my lungs and psyche. The picnic lunches that I ate out-of-doors were ordinary but never tasted better and the company I was keeping made me feel as if I was a kid again!
'Life-Caching' is an inexpensive way to find your zen and get exercise at the same time. It doesn't get any better than that!
Ancora imparo
'Life-caching' is a take-off on 'life-coaching', which you may be familiar with. In life-coaching, you hire a person to help you with your life. Sounds simple, I guess. I've never been life-coached but I know someone who is a life coach. As I understand the process, a life coach helps remove the cobwebs from a person's life, brain, home, relationship(s), etc. Presumably, when one is finished with the life-coaching process, your life-path will be clearer and less cluttered.
This weekend, I geocached for the first time. Geocaching is an environmental sport/activity/game where you use a GPS (global positioning system) to find an exact spot whose lat/long coordinates have been identified and some vessel and/or artifact has been hidden in that exact spot. With a GPS, exact is not an exact science but accurate to within five to ten feet, depending on the sensitivity of the unit a person is using.
Geocache sites must be officially registered and maintained by the person or persons who establish the site. Each geocache site is listed online and identified by its lat/long position, as well as a description and some basic, but cryptic clues. Geocaching is highly organized and has a formal structure surrounding its every detail. All in all, I was very impressed with the procedures and guidelines set up by whatever organization promotes geocaching.
We geocached two days in a row and as I was participating, I came to the conclusion that geocaching was a metaphor for life, hence the title of today's post - 'Life-Caching". When one geocaches, you have to follow instructions, play well with others, cooperate with others, and share with others. In order to meet your goal, you must travel paths you have not previously traveled, you must have clear vision, you must see the forest for the trees, think globally, look through your own 'wide-angle lens', persevere, think creatively, and watch for unusual landmarks toward the end of your journey as thinking outside of the box is necessary to find the prize.
Is that not a metaphor for the way we move through our life stages? For moi, after geocaching, I might have had a few cobwebs on my body and clothing, but there were many fewer cobwebs in my brain. My body soaked up the sun and fresh air infused energy into my lungs and psyche. The picnic lunches that I ate out-of-doors were ordinary but never tasted better and the company I was keeping made me feel as if I was a kid again!
'Life-Caching' is an inexpensive way to find your zen and get exercise at the same time. It doesn't get any better than that!
Ancora imparo
Friday, September 4, 2009
Race To End All Races
The water was slightly rippled, with a gentle southeasterly breeze, just perfect for the beginning of September. No bugs and no humidity. Just being on the water should have been reward enough without having to manufacture any feelings of competitiveness. Such was not the mindset of Captain Al.
She was enjoying just being on the water, the feeling of infinite peace that often eluded her, always replaced instead by the urge to constantly accomplish. He was left behind to do whatever he pleased. She assumed she would have solitude, interacting only with the birds, the tiny waves, and the sun. She moved quietly, being one with the water. Suddenly, in her peripheral vision, she sensed and then finally saw movement to her right. Not expecting any company, her neck strained to see what was impinging on her space.
What she saw gave her a start, for there he was, in the dinghy, moving up quickly on her starboard side. He smiled and waved and greeted her with a nonchalance that was, at once, suspect. She casually asked him what he was up to and he said he was simply 'accompanying' her on the water.
Alas, she knew better and mentally geared up for what she knew was in store. Gathering her mental reserve, she bore down with all the strength she could muster and plied the paddles firmly in the water, powerfully stroking with each arm. He knew that she knew what he was up to and he tried his best to move the dinghy but the little motor was no match for the Hurricane. She was moving with such velocity that bugs flew into her teeth and her lips were pulled away from her teeth. The dinghy was no match for the Hurricane kayak, aptly named for its extreme speed.
Score one for the First Mate, if only in her imagination.
Ancora imparo
She was enjoying just being on the water, the feeling of infinite peace that often eluded her, always replaced instead by the urge to constantly accomplish. He was left behind to do whatever he pleased. She assumed she would have solitude, interacting only with the birds, the tiny waves, and the sun. She moved quietly, being one with the water. Suddenly, in her peripheral vision, she sensed and then finally saw movement to her right. Not expecting any company, her neck strained to see what was impinging on her space.
What she saw gave her a start, for there he was, in the dinghy, moving up quickly on her starboard side. He smiled and waved and greeted her with a nonchalance that was, at once, suspect. She casually asked him what he was up to and he said he was simply 'accompanying' her on the water.
Alas, she knew better and mentally geared up for what she knew was in store. Gathering her mental reserve, she bore down with all the strength she could muster and plied the paddles firmly in the water, powerfully stroking with each arm. He knew that she knew what he was up to and he tried his best to move the dinghy but the little motor was no match for the Hurricane. She was moving with such velocity that bugs flew into her teeth and her lips were pulled away from her teeth. The dinghy was no match for the Hurricane kayak, aptly named for its extreme speed.
Score one for the First Mate, if only in her imagination.
Ancora imparo
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Glass Ceilings
The recent announcement that Charles Gibson (ABC evening news anchor) will retire at the end of this year and that his replacement will be Diane Sawyer (Good Morning America co-host) came as a pleasant surprise to me this morning. What didn't surprise me was the talk about her 'breaking the glass ceiling' in the television journalism world. I wasn't surprised but I was disappointed.
Please do not misunderstand me. That 'glass ceiling' does exist, but it comes in different forms in differing work environments. It is time put aside the term and the corresponding attitudes that accompany the 'glass ceiling'.
I can personally attest to the glass ceiling. I first felt it in 1968 when I sat before my advisor at a Big-10 University. My male advisor tried his best to steer me to Music Therapy, not Instrumental Music Education, where I would be a FEMALE band director. FEMALE band directors were very rare in the 1960's......and '70's.....and '80's....and 90's....get the idea? When I did my student teaching in the fall of 1971, I was supposed to spend equal weeks at the high school as well as the junior high. Of course, both directors were males. The junior high director was a wonderful, patient and skilled educator who taught me so much and with whom I kept in touch until his death in the early 2000's. The high school director was the typical male band director - one who felt that FEMALES had no business with a baton in their hand. (As an aside, at my Big-10 University, FEMALES were not allowed to be in the marching band until the fall of 1972, after my graduation.) So the fact that the high school band director, with whom I was supposed to student teach, refused to allow me in his classroom or on the athletic field with the marching band, wasn't an unusual attitude for the time.
Was I furious? Of course.
Over the years, in my field of education, tiny changes did occur. More women were accepted as elementary directors by the male-dominated field, a few more were seen in the middle school/junior high arena, but high school? Forget it.
I felt and saw the disapproval at music festivals where, in the directors' lounges, the tables were full of men - only. Women, if they ever came into the directors' lounges, sat at their own table. I finally became tired of this segregation and started sitting at the 'guys' tables, where I would be patently ignored. If I dared to speak, no man would acknowledge that I spoke at all. I would come home fussing and fuming to my family, as they can attest. Never mind that my students fared just as well, if not better, than my male counterparts. I was a female. A stranger in a strange land.
Katie Couric has forged a path for Diane Sawyer, hopefully making her less of a pundit and critical target than Couric has been. Good is good, great is great, mediocre is mediocre, and bad is bad.......regardless of gender. I say that we should send the ceiling to recycling for women and men and recognize quality. Period.
Ancora imparo
Please do not misunderstand me. That 'glass ceiling' does exist, but it comes in different forms in differing work environments. It is time put aside the term and the corresponding attitudes that accompany the 'glass ceiling'.
I can personally attest to the glass ceiling. I first felt it in 1968 when I sat before my advisor at a Big-10 University. My male advisor tried his best to steer me to Music Therapy, not Instrumental Music Education, where I would be a FEMALE band director. FEMALE band directors were very rare in the 1960's......and '70's.....and '80's....and 90's....get the idea? When I did my student teaching in the fall of 1971, I was supposed to spend equal weeks at the high school as well as the junior high. Of course, both directors were males. The junior high director was a wonderful, patient and skilled educator who taught me so much and with whom I kept in touch until his death in the early 2000's. The high school director was the typical male band director - one who felt that FEMALES had no business with a baton in their hand. (As an aside, at my Big-10 University, FEMALES were not allowed to be in the marching band until the fall of 1972, after my graduation.) So the fact that the high school band director, with whom I was supposed to student teach, refused to allow me in his classroom or on the athletic field with the marching band, wasn't an unusual attitude for the time.
Was I furious? Of course.
Over the years, in my field of education, tiny changes did occur. More women were accepted as elementary directors by the male-dominated field, a few more were seen in the middle school/junior high arena, but high school? Forget it.
I felt and saw the disapproval at music festivals where, in the directors' lounges, the tables were full of men - only. Women, if they ever came into the directors' lounges, sat at their own table. I finally became tired of this segregation and started sitting at the 'guys' tables, where I would be patently ignored. If I dared to speak, no man would acknowledge that I spoke at all. I would come home fussing and fuming to my family, as they can attest. Never mind that my students fared just as well, if not better, than my male counterparts. I was a female. A stranger in a strange land.
Katie Couric has forged a path for Diane Sawyer, hopefully making her less of a pundit and critical target than Couric has been. Good is good, great is great, mediocre is mediocre, and bad is bad.......regardless of gender. I say that we should send the ceiling to recycling for women and men and recognize quality. Period.
Ancora imparo
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
What Is An Empath?
Do you know what an empath is?
It is a term that I was not familiar with until recently, in yet another discussion, the word was used and someone asked, "What is an empath?" We received a rather vague definition which made me come home and do some online research as to what an empath is.
I discovered that being called an empath is a positive descriptor. Empath, of course, comes from empathy, which, in very general terms, is the ability to feel what another human is feeling. Trite description but it gets the idea across, I hope.
Empaths would be people who instinctively feel another's pain, hurt, humiliation, fear, rejection, etc. I've left out the feeling of anger because anger is usually outwardly manifested and it doesn't take a so-called 'rocket scientist' to figure out when another person is angry. There are far more subtle feelings that could be easily overlooked that an empath would sense. Some empaths don't even need to see the other person to decipher the feelings being conveyed via the voice. Empaths are instinctively in tune with others, probably, at times, to their own detriment.
Do you know anyone who is an empath? I believe that many empaths do not even realize the gift that they possess......the gift to listen, hear, feel and process what a fellow human is saying or not saying. Is it perhaps what we do not verbalize that is more reflective than the words we utter?
I have to ponder this.
Ancora imparo
It is a term that I was not familiar with until recently, in yet another discussion, the word was used and someone asked, "What is an empath?" We received a rather vague definition which made me come home and do some online research as to what an empath is.
I discovered that being called an empath is a positive descriptor. Empath, of course, comes from empathy, which, in very general terms, is the ability to feel what another human is feeling. Trite description but it gets the idea across, I hope.
Empaths would be people who instinctively feel another's pain, hurt, humiliation, fear, rejection, etc. I've left out the feeling of anger because anger is usually outwardly manifested and it doesn't take a so-called 'rocket scientist' to figure out when another person is angry. There are far more subtle feelings that could be easily overlooked that an empath would sense. Some empaths don't even need to see the other person to decipher the feelings being conveyed via the voice. Empaths are instinctively in tune with others, probably, at times, to their own detriment.
Do you know anyone who is an empath? I believe that many empaths do not even realize the gift that they possess......the gift to listen, hear, feel and process what a fellow human is saying or not saying. Is it perhaps what we do not verbalize that is more reflective than the words we utter?
I have to ponder this.
Ancora imparo
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Leadership
The conversation revolved around leaders and morphed from local leaders to employers to church leaders to national leaders. No stone was left unturned and the opinions were as varied as the ages, stages, and political leanings.
I came away with my mind churning regarding leadership. What kind of leader was I and what did I want and expect from a leader? I asked myself if leadership needs to take on differing forms to change with the age and stage of the group? Are there universal leadership qualities that transcend the lines of every type of group? Are leaders born or made or both?
I can pick up a newspaper on any given day and read either an article, an syndicated op-ed piece or a letter to the editor that involves aspects of leadership. Some leaders have highly questionable pasts and backgrounds, yet our society seeks their opinions and seems to place a high value on their words and follows their every action. Why? For every leader and leadership style, I can find followers and detractors. An ineffective leader, in my opinion, may be your ideal leader.
Does success equal leadership?
Then my question became, "What is success?" That topic would find as many diverse thoughts and ideas as the conversation about leadership.
As you can see, my head is spinning with questions but this is one quandary that I will relish thinking through. I'm always seeking answers to life's perplexing questions, Prairie-Home- Companion style and will welcome your thoughts, ideas and opinions. Perhaps what I need is more catsup.
As the blog is titled: Still I am learning.
Ancora imparo
I came away with my mind churning regarding leadership. What kind of leader was I and what did I want and expect from a leader? I asked myself if leadership needs to take on differing forms to change with the age and stage of the group? Are there universal leadership qualities that transcend the lines of every type of group? Are leaders born or made or both?
I can pick up a newspaper on any given day and read either an article, an syndicated op-ed piece or a letter to the editor that involves aspects of leadership. Some leaders have highly questionable pasts and backgrounds, yet our society seeks their opinions and seems to place a high value on their words and follows their every action. Why? For every leader and leadership style, I can find followers and detractors. An ineffective leader, in my opinion, may be your ideal leader.
Does success equal leadership?
Then my question became, "What is success?" That topic would find as many diverse thoughts and ideas as the conversation about leadership.
As you can see, my head is spinning with questions but this is one quandary that I will relish thinking through. I'm always seeking answers to life's perplexing questions, Prairie-Home- Companion style and will welcome your thoughts, ideas and opinions. Perhaps what I need is more catsup.
As the blog is titled: Still I am learning.
Ancora imparo
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