About the Election

I recently spent some time with friends. As would be expected at this particular moment, the conversation turned to the upcoming election. It was a short, simple conversation. What stayed with me was the final comment my friend said, which went something like this "some days life can be hard. Why would anyone want the government to do anything to interfere with our happiness?" And I wonder why? Everything seems so negative...you are wrong, I am right. Maybe if we put the happiness of the general population as the goal, we could work together better and more effectively. After all we are all here together and even with all our differences, the pursuit of happiness is most people's goal. Happiness leads to smiles, and smiles are the universal  sign of happiness.

Just My Opinion About Penn State

  A terrible thing happened a few years ago at Penn State. It was a horrific act, followed by other horrific acts and nobody stepped forward to make it stop. As with most things secret, leaks began, and then the whole shebang was out in the open. It is sad for everyone, very sad.

Having said that, my opinion is thus:

The initial timing of the scandal being exposed, a few days before the football season ended and a coach retired: was there not a better time? After all, the secret had been hidden for so many years. Who was protected by this release date? I would speculate, not the victims.

And the dominoes begin to fall, very quickly, gaining momentum going round and round. The students protest, a man is arrested, another man dies, and there is a trial. It is all just plain awful. And now, more punishment, let’s rub a little more salt into the wounds. How can you say a team did not win a game when it did?  After all, are there not more people involved in a football team then the coaches?

Who are we really punishing here? There were a lot of people who did not step up when they should have and they were not all at Penn State or involved in the football program.

 People who have options continue to hurt the young people of this University. One of them is my daughter who recently received her Masters Degree from Penn State. She said to me this morning, “I hope all this does not hurt my chance of getting a job”.

But, and this is just my opinion, the victims can now begin to heal, the university can move forward. The students at Penn State will rise above this, as will the football team,  and I am sure my daughter will get a job. 

                                                           Missing Rosa


This commentary is certainly not about "bucking any trend". It is about heartbreak. I will borrow the words from my daughter who said, while picking up her cat, "this is a bundle of heartbreak". It is true that our pets give us so much before that ultimate heartbreak. But, that heartbreak is so overwhelming. My cat, Rosa, left us this past Saturday morning. But Rosa was not always my cat. She is one of the many animals who have been drawn here by the invisible neon sign on my roof. The sign reads, Tender Heart Inside-Great Place to Stop. This sign has brought close to ten animals to my doorway. Ten does not include the ones who tried but moved on. My house is like a magnet, well, I think it is the tone of my voice and the ability a stray has to wrap me around their little tail. 
Rosa showed up a few years ago with a companion, a black cat. It was apparent they had been taken care of. They were not thin and both had been rendered unable to have any offspring. Initially you look at these animals and say how cute. You go to work telling them, there is a better home down the road. I already have a few animals to take care of. You return home and breathe a sigh of relief because they are not there, until they are again. Random names appear over their heads like the bubbles over cartoon characters. You choose one for each. The black cat is named Fang and the white one with the orange spots is called Rosa. A few weeks go by and a routine is established. Bowls, for food and water, appear outside the front door.
 Fang is friendly. Rosa stays back. A few years go by and you can pet Rosa if she is standing directly behind Fang. Your fingers may only lightly touch her. Then that little bundle of heartbreak shows up and Fang is hit by a car. Fang was so affectionate. I missed him and buried him in my pet cemetery (not a la Stephen King) in my back yard. I sat on the stoop outside sad and looked at Rosa who was obviously sad. I thought she will leave now, but she never did. She was clipped by a car on her rear end racing across the street. It took three people to get her in a box to take her to the vet. Luckily she was only bruised. She had a little twist to her strut, but apart from that she was her usual self. Except, she had decided to be our friend. 
The friendship blossomed from tiny touches to full pets. The first time she jumped onto the couch to sit beside me I was scared to even breathe. I called my daughters and whispered Rosa is sitting on the couch beside me. The bonding increased and then it stopped because some neglected dogs got a hold of her. Choosing when our animals die is tragic, but there is that feeling that we are saving them from suffering. We had no choice. She died of shock. But, when I went in to see her her ears perked up and she looked right into my eyes and I knew she loved me and trusted me and I was lucky that she had been my pet. So, no bucking the trend of heartbreak when it comes to loosing your animals. Scream, cry, bang your fists against the steering wheel of your car and when the pain starts to subside remember all the good times. Like the one in the picture here of Rosa after she walked through a stepping block the kids had painted red and ended up pinkish. She had become part of our family and will always be in our hearts.

Missing Football

I love football! A lot! When the football season ends I slump; I drag; I wither. How can I possibly survive the next few months? Pulling one of my many football tops out of the closet and hugging it close to me does not make me feel any better. Looking at my football paraphernalia  does not make me feel any better. I remember Sunday mornings, waking up, smiling, knowing in a few hours I can listen to the banter of the football commentators. I would recognize most of their voices anywhere. They are like family to me. Then the games begin! You can watch games back to back, until almost midnight. I even miss the commercials! Monday Night Football, isn’t that what Mondays are for?  If you are lucky and your cable company offers it, there will be Thursday games, half way through the season..

So, the fact that “free agency” began got my excited. 30 days ago it was six plus months until the preseason then, it is six months minus a bit until the preseason starts. Yeah! I don’t want to wish my life away but, sometimes  the weekends seem so long. Oh, football, I miss you so much!

Last week my team had a volunteer mini camp. And now, the NFL draft! I am becoming a happier girl. I know there is still the end of spring and most of the long summer to follow (and in Florida, this time of year can really drag you down) but the preseason games are a little over three months away and regular season close to four months.  I am halfway there, give or take a few days. Bring it on!  I am ready!

Tonight I will hear the voice of Chris Berman and see football jerseys and hear screams from the young fans and players and their families. It is a time of excitement! A new year of football is beginning!

Going gray or grey (as they say in Canada eh!)

 In our journey through life we tire, and then we rest. My hair is doing just that. Yes, I said my hair. I think my hair is tired of being covered up. Okay, it is me. I am tired of wondering what is going on under the various shades that I have been using on my hair for a number of years. I am not even sure when I first began coloring my hair, or why. Perhaps it began with a few hennas based on the theory it would help my very dry hair. The next thing I know I am in my 50’s coloring my hair every couple of months and wondering what lurks beneath. Everyone has highlights in their hair, but mine is really, really multicolored. My true color, when I was younger. I would classify as auburn, probably a dark auburn. This came from my father’s side of the family, some good Scottish blood there. But now, I don’t know. I see almost every color on my head, except black.

So, I am 6 months into this process. These are the thoughts I have jotted down.

* During my birthday month, I make the decision, I will stop dying my hair and see what happens.

* A few days in and I have bought colored mousse just in case.

* I think I feel empowered. At the football game I really do not see anyone with gray hair. We have become a society of youth seekers; well, I will different. I will buc the trend.

* Gray is a fashion color this spring. Yeah, my hair will be in style!

* I bought the rinse in the blue bottle. Didn’t I see this in my grandmother’s cupboard?

* Having doubts, will I look too old?

* A girl at work says when the gray has come in I should take a picture and send it to  “Oil of Olay” because my skin looks so good and natural and soon my hair will also. Really?

* So, if I panic, I can color it anytime.

* My Mother has not said a word about my hair. She would if she noticed it. Is it her eyes or is this process not as visible to others?

*I had dinner with a friend who recently let her gray grow in. She noticed immediately.

*It is now three months in and I am not sure how I feel.  The other evening someone said my hair looked white and pretty. But, she was leaning into the car in the dark of night and had had a drink so who knows. I think for days it looks good and then I think it looks terrible and I avoid the mirror.

* My younger daughter came home and said it was obvious what I was doing with my hair.

* I am so tall I sometimes wonder if anyone can see my roots.

* I think if you are stylish you can look good no matter what color your hair is.

*When I look at people who are older their skin is old. Their eyes are scary old, as if the light within is diminishing. Does the hair color matter? Or does it take a little attention away from the old eyes?

*And what about people of whom you ask no opinion? They just volunteer their ideas. It goes like this. “Let me see what you are doing with your hair? Followed by “WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR HAIR?” “Well, I think you should blah, blah, etc etc….and if your hairdresser is not available, mine is.  She, whose breasts are hanging down to her bellybutton. Has she not heard of bras, ones with wires in them and ones to hide ones nipples. Women get their hair dyed all colors of the rainbow and then let their breasts rest on their knees.

More to follow…

Use February 29th as a Bonus Day

Today we receive a gift, an extra 24 hours, wrapped up as February 29^th.  2012 is a leap year. Leap years are years which contain one additional day to keep the calendar year in sync with the seasonal year.

Are we really gaining time? I am not sure. But, I am game to act like we have. The subject of 'time' is on everyone's lips. Mostly, that there is not enough. So, we have an extra 24 hours this year! Wonderful! What will you do with the extra day this year; the 24 hours…1440 minutes…86400 seconds? A writer of science fiction, Ray Cummings, wrote in 1922, "Time... is what keeps everything from happening at once". So true! I sometimes am doing so many things that I find myself in the hallway going around in a circle, my brain and body screaming "stop"! Considering that looming prediction that the world will possible end in doomsday this year I am grabbing every moment  I can and savoring it, not all at once, but separately. I start with February 29th. 

It would be great  if the world would pause. We could simply push a special button, like we  do with our ipod. Time would stand still. We could all use a day when we did nothing, absolutely nothing, just be.  I doubt that will happen. We all have our bucket list and our even smaller rainy day list. One of the things on my rainy day list has been to launch my blog. It is at little scary, like jumping off the high dive, but at this moment there seems to be some good symmetry, an extra day to do it and a moment of reflection at the passing of  Jan Bernstein. The Bernstein Bears books are now into their second generation in our family. Thank you Jan and Stan Bernstein for the stories you gave us.

So, I hope you give yourself permission to do something impulsive, skip down the street,  call your grandpa, read a book, anything with these extra 24 hours, go ahead: buc the trend!