Happy Birthday, Boopie!

Today is, or would have been, my grandfather’s 78^th birthday and I wanted to take this time to celebrate him and share some thoughts. He passed long enough ago that he never met his great-granddaughters face to face- never saw tragedy fall on his beloved Manhattan- never aged enough to feel the impact of our country’s increasing inability to care for one another… and he would have had great words to share about it all.

I miss these words and opinions and I wish beyond most wishes that I could share more conversations with him. He had an uncanny ability to see great things in the world- to understand people and separate the struggles life delivers from the potential within. He believed people deserved the right to build their best life and understood the balance between helping others and others helping themselves.

He taught me to respect human error and forgive it, within reason and that it is imperative to take the time to understand an individual’s history and how the paths we are each on need a combination of external guidance and internal motivation.

Internal motivation was the key to his lessons– He would say we are only as strong and capable as we allow ourselves to be… that though it is easier to roll over or bury our heads, to accept the days and circumstances of life as they come and live as a victim, what benefit is there in that? What quality exists in our days without appreciation and the continued drive to make these days the best they can be?

He also knew that many people lacked these abilities, or had experienced such a high degree of struggle or turmoil in life that desperation and fear took over judgment and that was where the external guidance and understanding came in. He felt that it was our obligation to help, not do for, but assist, respect and support.   

He worked the greater part of his life at a youth development center helping kids overcome their own histories and push to achieve beyond society’s expectations. He worked to restore or establish their self-respect and helped them fight against stereotypes- against assumptions- against obstacles. He helped many and they went on to help many more.

My grandfather knew without question that we are all flawed in some natural, human way but believed in the good that lives within each of us. He was not ignorant to evils in the world but felt that the light, the positive, could carry greater power and made his decisions bearing in mind that far more benefit can come from positive thought for self and others.

I think, on some level, he carried personal guilt of the decisions and directions of his own earlier days and worked to make amends, to make a difference and to provide hope where such levels of desperation overshadowed all else.   

Through acknowledging his own faults and working to find his place, his direction- he reached out and helped. Saw people for who they wanted to become and worked with them to achieve change. He understood we as a society hold all the tools to repair ourselves if we can only take the steps and time to do so.  

Sometimes I think it is easy to forget we are all in this life together. We get caught up in our own struggles, frustrations and ambitions and lose sight of the fact that there are others who are going through the same.

It is days like today, when the thoughts and memories of my grandfather are so strong, that I am reminded of one of my most important responsibilities as a member of our human society. We could all use help, hope, respect and understanding and I want to be sure the days of my life are spent providing these things and teaching my daughter to do the same. There are too many amazing folks out there for us to not all work together to make greater things happen.

Mable Clyde Navigates Life

This is a bit of a bedtime story for grown-ups... 

Mable Clyde woke in her cozy old bed,

it was Hate the World Monday and she covered her head.
Quite forgetting her mantra from the evening before,
she grunted and pounded her alarm to the floor.

In nine minutes time it sounded again,

with a violent and biting monotonous tone.
Momentary relief for Mable’s frail brain
found it muffled, top-side-down on a robe.

But psychotically crafted alarm clocks crescendo full bore

so Mable reached and she patted from mattress to floor.
She grasped it and cursed it and squeezed out its last buzz
then stomped to the bathroom door. 

Things did not improve as Mable rushed through her day

trying to play corporate in an ethical way.
She questioned as instructed by those who instruct-
but the questions she questioned were inappropriate.

So she found herself frustrated with what she should do

but she doubted her ability to find something new.
In only one day Sunday’s optimism was gone
and she trudged home resenting her position as pawn.  

Two different Tuesdays and two interviews

both filled with the same patronizing howdy-dee-do.
One said, “Thank you for your time and for your motivation.
You do have experience and enthu—siasm,
but for someone that holds your current position    
this is not at all the typical progression,
what I mean is to say it’d be quite the promotion!”

At this Ms. Clyde envisioned smashing her head

and wished for a lolli-pop and a pat on the head
instead of a grammatical abomination telling her why
this position was some unobtainable prize.

Instead she smiled and thanked him for taking the time,

said she appreciated his advice on her corporate climb.
She shook hands with more oomph than he had put in
and acknowledged her knowledge of his embarrassed chagrin.

The other provided a bit more to her credit,

at least taking time to mention she had a right to present it,
“Your ideas are certainty enlightening, and you’ve invested your time
focusing on the highly favorable aspects we find…

“Oh groan,” Mable thought, “Here comes the script-

I’ve lost another one to locked-in-a-box politics.
I’ve got to get out, I can’t do anything here!”
Mable stood and she smiled and her intentions were clear.

And again she found home this time curled in a quilt

then wasted a Wednesday surrounded by the self pity she built.
She grumbled that the world had turned crazy, lazy and mean
and hypocritically admitted that she found it obscene.

But this was not the type of person she thought she’d become,

all cloistered, defeated, despondent and dumb.
In her heart raged a demon of great diffidence
and she feared it succeeded in stifling her sense.       

With gritted teeth Mable glared into the mirror-

her own angry face with a flicker of fear.
She felt her heart burn and the reflection felt double-
she pounded the counter and pushed down her trouble.

Then straightened to standing as she pulled at her hair,

she pushed at her head until clarity got there.
When the simplest inkling of inspiration set in,
Mable smiled and sighed and allowed a small grin to escape,

it had been hidden, locked tight-

the solution was there, it has to be, right?
The solution to relief from this mundane existence,
this soul-sucking funk, this rot on your ass persistence of procrastination
and abusive self-reflection…

Mable looked into her eyes and had to take action.

She solicited an untapped selection of brain
and her exhausted reflection did much of the same-
she drew another deep breath and shuddered and sighed,
she’d need to wake up tomorrow and find Mable Clyde.

With clear-headed ambition and a stern look in the mirror

she concentrated hard until her old Sunday mantra was clear.
She prepared herself right with a voice strong and steady,
“Good night, Sweet Pea”. She said, “Dream Big and wake up ready.”

Three weeks of Thursdays and only one of them rough

saw Mable Clyde ready and emotionally tough-
she woke up each day and remembered her name,
she recalled some old faces and she let go of her shame.

Mable folded her quilt for her old snuggly cat

and put on her boots and a snazzy new hat.
She found nice conversations and danced in the street
thankful for the freedom to follow her feet.

She started to listen beyond the same walls

And sought out a profession where she could stand tall
Then found the right fit far away from the greed
and worked with a diligence to help small business succeed.

By the time each next Friday came Mable Clyde’s way

something wonderful happened on each glorious day -
weekend or weekday, vacations or not,
good days, bad days, cold days and hot-
all of the days in Mable Clyde’s life,
were just that, all days in her life she could count.

And counting is one thing but to add living is better

when living has loving, has laughter, has letters.
So Mable dreamed big all the nights of her days
in her cozy old bed in cozy old ways.

She woke through the seasons prepared for the weather

taking time for learning, for Orion or to study a feather.
She woke from big dreams for self, family and dear friends,
remembering always to be ready for what lies ahead.

A Few Words About Basketball

My husband recently decided I should be into basketball. It's a surprisingly common opinion among family, friends and complete strangers because I stand at (a quarter inch shy of) six feet.

 

I am not now, nor have I ever been aware that height comes with, not only unquestionable basketball playing ability, but an obligation to participate in the sport. Truth is, I've never played- I guess I'm a rebel or this is what some of my earlier teachers may have meant by not achieving full potential.

Now, I've done the required dribbling drills and free throws my 80s public education required of me, but that's where I left it. Too much thud-thudding and shrill sneaker squeaks in an acoustically unfriendly environment. No thank you.

 

But, why let my personal feelings be the end of it? Not when I'm as tall as I am and I have a spouse who likes the sport as much as he does. Never mind my complete lack of interest in the 20+ years we've known each other. Why all of a sudden? Why is basketball now a great activity for us to not only play together, but to watch as a family...? Why deprive our tall daughter the opportunity to play just because I never did is his strongest argument to date. So, why the heck not... let's give it a whirl.

 

This is how my basketball education began and ended in under a week:

 

1. I bought a pink women's ball. If this education and activity is really to better my understanding and interest and provide tutelage to my daughter, why should we not use a pink women's ball? Apparently this was wrong. All I have to say is, if one loves basketball so much, why don't they have their own standard color man-sized ball already so the presence of said pink ball would not be so offensive?

2. I threw in some hope. I nailed the label the court diagram. Without help. This may have sent mix messages that I was interested in learning and lead to the downfall of the overall plan. In my defense, it was a bit like a test, so I did my best. I think a bit more encouragement and a bit less overall surprise would have benefitted the continuation of the plan more effectively.

 

3. I did not take our "play around" time in the park seriously. I was just trying to figure out who passed to whom and when. It seems there are base rules and court etiquette that should be followed even when one is just trying to wrap their heads around the fact that they are on a basketball court to begin with. It guess there is no giggling in basketball.

 

4. I was not serious enough about mastering play formation. When it was decided I needed a more tactical understanding before taking it back to the court, I laughed too much through my tutorial of the rules and strategies of the game. But, really, this is the visual- I find it hard to believe anyone could interpret this, let alone keep a straight face during the design phase.

 

All that said, take heart as another sport’s season begins! Though your television may be monopolized, you can still catch up on reading- or writing- over the sounds of couch-side coaching. At least hockey is back…

Become a Penny Flipper

I recently started flipping pennies.

 

This is to say when I see a tales up penny on the ground, you know, these faceless pennies known for their unlucky properties, I flip it over and leave the suddenly lucky heads up penny on the ground to be later discovered by someone who may see it, pick it up and add a little luck to their day.

Hopefully by doing so I am not causing some kind of luck disturbance in the world or altering the lucky benefits of these coins in comparison to their counterparts that naturally fall heads up. My intentions are pure. I just think the world could benefit from this overwhelming untapped luck potential.

It's just that, well, sometimes people need a little help finding something lucky or positive about their day. If we go around snatching up all the heads up pennies while leaving the tales up ones behind, eventually all we'll have is a bunch of bad luck piled all around and a bunch of humans who don't understand they can be part of the solution to sort it all out.

So, maybe we can spread the luck. If you see a tales up penny, flip it and help someone else find a lucky day. Who knows, one day maybe it'll be you who needs a little extra luck and it will be nice to know someone else flipped a penny for you.

Share Words as People Do

So, I think it is peculiar how people on couches can find a connection with people on TV. It’s strange. It’s strange because the people on the couch do not know the people on the TV nor will they likely ever meet, have the opportunity to chat and spend the time to get to know each other.

Even so, I reluctantly admit I am one of these couch people. I can't help it. Sometimes they are in my living room and chatting in a way that makes sense to me or I've been affected by the things they've done or created. I've asked myself the hypothetical question of who I'd be interested in meeting and talking with should the opportunity present itself. Being a new blogger, I'm going for the light-hearted five-person sit and chat scenario rather than one involving the heaping pile of serious issues and realities worth discussing... Perhaps another day. Anyway, here’s my list, in no particular order:

Christina Applegate – I found we shared similar opinions and emotions to the dancers and choreographed pieces on So You Think You Can Dance. I enjoy dance quite profoundly but it is not a passion I share with anyone in my life and I think it would be wonderful to sit and talk with someone who reacts to dance the way I do.

Cheryl Henson – I believe that The Muppets and Creatures of Jim Henson were a significant part of the village of individuals who raised me. I would love to thank her and her family for the amazing gifts they’ve given.

Stephen King – I evolved as a writer in my appreciation of Mr. King’s ability to choose and distribute his words. Writers are fun to talk with and it could be a potentially enjoyable conversation.

Daniel Tosh – He makes me laugh and I’m curious if my understanding of his humor is what I think it is.

Ellen DeGeneres – I think her energy and the sincerity she expresses are beautiful and feel it would be quite nice to share a conversation.

There are many other conversations I believe would be interesting to share, so don’t be offended if you are a well-known person and not listed above. Who knows? Perhaps we’ll meet someday and share words as people do.     

What does it mean to grow up?

I read a great list on buzzfeed.com titled 16 Things That Happen When You Become An Actual Adult. Granted the intention of the piece was focused on financial stability, but it got me thinking... Based on some of the attributes mentioned, it seems I'm still far from achieving this particular life goal- to be an adult. To help comfort myself during this time, I thought it might be fun to make my own list of the reasons why I am far, far from becoming an "actual adult" - While I'm super excited for those who have managed to make this impressive transformation, perhaps there are other overgrown children like me out there who lack the ability to properly grow up and don't mind so much.

15 Things That Let Others Know You Haven't Grown Up Yet

1) You enjoy coloring with crayons and "arts and crafts time" can still be used as a method of entertaining you so you don't get out of hand.

2) You prefer riding a bike to driving a car.

3) You have little trouble falling asleep... unless you are really excited.

4) You believe - without question- that The Muppets and Beings born at Jim Henson's Creature Shop are real.

5) You save money in a plastic jar for special things you want to buy.

6) With the exception of items given to you by parents and grandparents, ALL of your jewelry is either sterling silver or plastic. The really good pieces are both.

7) You sing aloud often and talk to yourself on a regular basis. Sometimes you sing the conversations you have with yourself because once you start, you can't stop.

8) Snow makes you happy

9) You don't think it's odd when people of the same gender or of different races kiss each other because you just think it's nice to see humans who are happy.

10) You'd rather play and laugh with your friends then discuss stock options, consumer reports or politics.

11) You need to be reminded on a regular basis that it's not always appropriate to answer all questions with complete honesty and the word "tact" is used a lot during the lectures.

12) You spend more time in the ocean than you do on the beach.

13) You enjoy smiling at and talking to strangers even though you've been told it's dangerous.

14) You believe that a bad day can be made better with a hug, comfy jammies and maybe some ice cream.

15) Not only do your children want to spend time with you but they surprise you every day by how amazing they are despite having you as a parent.

Thoughts on the Start of Football

So- the start of football season has arrived and I say “yay!” with genuine excitement mixed with a hint of anticipated exasperation. Excitement because I enjoy football- I enjoy sports in general—but with that enjoyment comes the knowledge that football begins as the race for playoff baseball heats up, creating a season filled with repetitive sports radio and its offspring, overspill guy-talk.

 

I enjoy overspill guy-talk. It’s entertaining for a few hours stretched out through the year. It provides interesting insight on the deepest desires of men and the significant simultaneous degree of envy, love and hatred they hold in their hearts for people and events that have little to no actual connection to their own well-being. It’s, well its mind-blowing to me and it builds this time of year to the point that most social events fall victim to the all encompassing conversation dictator. Did you see so and so do this or that? What were they thinking? That call was B.S! and on and on and on...

 

I do specify men here, but acknowledge the few exceptionally well versed and passionate women so their feelings won’t be hurt. Don’t get me wrong, I’m completely down with girl power in every respect but I do hold the personal opinion that there are a rare few women who successfully hold the complete and equal ability to throw down proper sports talk. It’s impressive to watch. Makes me a little jealous, but they’re a bit like unicorns so it feels right to be in complete awe of them.

 

Now, as I've said, I enjoy sports. 4 ½ of the men in my life and possibly 5 of the women think I’m reasonably athletic. I spent 30 of my 37 years learning and loving baseball and I broke the noses of two people through many years of soccer. I played volleyball in high school, LOVE, LOVE, LOVE hockey and attend as many Patriots games as the family schedule allows. I'm a scenic mountain biker and, though I can’t do anything too impressive yet (C'mon inner American Ninja Warrior!), I feel like a powerful beast when I rock strength and conditioning at Dynamic. Yet, even with that extensive experience, I do not consider myself capable of participating in hard-core sports talk- I guess the anticipation mentioned above is a bit overstated... perhaps it's just- - - a lack of enthusiasm for extensive hypothetical conversation? 

 

Surprising, since I provided those exceptional arguments to support my sporting credentials but, truth is, I’m primarily an observer during whichever season happens to be upon us (though I give a bit of effort during hockey season). I know this of myself without question. I prefer my public sports talk and observations to be limited to small knowledge pops here and there. I dig the atmosphere but know that though I certainly have the mental ability to understand the finer details, statistics and strategies of these games, I am not capable of gathering enough motivation to do so to a degree required to meaningfully participate in the overspill and I don't think my contributions, regardless of their insight or potential brilliance, would be taken seriously. Its likely assumed I read or heard my opinion somewhere...

 

So knowledge pops work well for me. Quick bits of sports talk that do not continue on and on. They leave one free to voice an opinion and move to other topics. I got to know one of my greatest friends discussing the ground rule double many, many years ago. Short conversation with many perks. Just a fun fact. 

But tonight I’m typing and the fanatic fan is flip, flip, flipping between opening night football and rivalry baseball games and prepping for his next social occasion. I'm giggling at commentary and glancing up occasionally when something interesting happens. I love the safety, so it’s fun we’ve made it back to football in time to see. As for baseball... I did hear all night that every pitcher who faces him should try to hit Ortiz. I think it’s hilarious and wonderful how fantastic his night has been. Maybe that’s the real reason I should refrain from sports talk?