It was a beautiful, warm, sunny day 17 years ago today. How do I know this, you may well ask? I usually have trouble remembering yesterday, so it is not run of the mill for me to remember a day from years ago. But that day was the most special kind of day - a once, or in my case, twice, in a lifetime day. I remember it so clearly because my beautiful daughter, Erin, was born 17 years ago today, and changed my world forever.
There are lots of opinions on what it means to have a girl come into your life. They are sweet, they are sour. They are perky, they are depressed. They are fun, they are a nightmare. They are all these things, sometimes simultaneously. They will mix you up, and stomp on your heart, and then they will smile, and suddenly, none of it matters. Because they are your world, and without them, the world wouldn't be the same.
My relationship with my daughter has changed over the years, as I moved from Mama, to Mommy, to Mom, to Mo-ommmmmmm, and now, once again, I am back to Mom. As she has grown up and changed, so have I, and so has our relationship.
This relationship with my daughter is one of brutal honesty, one in which there are no holds barred, nothing hidden or tucked away. She doesn't hold back, and neither do I, as we navigate closer to her independence day. But if you have no barriers, you can also love unconditionally, and there is no other love so purely unselfish. But even as she starts to move away from me for real, we are becoming closer in our hearts.
The biggest change comes now, as she approaches adulthood, and suddenly, she is no longer just the student, learning at my feet. As she has grown, there is more give and take, and now, I learn from her, just as she learns from me. We are still mother and daughter, and will always be. But we are more than that - we are becoming friends, and it is that which causes me the greatest joy this day.
I am sad to see her leaving childhood behind so quickly. I don't know where the years have gone, and I don't understand how my little girl is suddenly so grown up. But at the same time, I look forward to seeing who she will become, to watch her move from potential to reality.
My daughter is everything I ever dreamed of, and so much more. I wouldn't trade my daughter for all the stars in the universe, or all the diamonds in the earth. She is priceless, and my heart will never be the same.
Happy birthday to my wonderful, fabulous, most special daughter. Although today is the day for you to be showered with gifts, you are the real gift, and I am the luckiest mom in the world, because you were given to me. That is what I am celebrating on this day.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Sarah with an h...
Shakespeare would have us believe that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. Well, I beg to differ. I'll bet if it had smelled less sweet, it would have been named something else, because names, more often than not, describe the thing for which they are the moniker.
What is in a name? Well, when your name is Sarah, it has an h, at the very least. Or it should, anyway. But all too often, that h gets left off, misplaced right out of the picture, sort of like a train without its caboose. And we all know that the caboose is the fun part with the guy who waves as he goes by. So, in short, my h is important to me.
I was always under the impression that this was a personal quirk of mine, but it seems that I am not alone. I found this out the other day when I met my boss for a mid-week meeting at Starbucks. I breezed in a few minutes late, as usual, and rushed to the counter to make my order. When she asked my name, I replied as I always do, "Sarah. With an h."
She looked at me sort of funny, then laughed right out loud. Since I don't think there is anything really funny about the name Sarah - it's not my favorite name, but it's mine, so I live with it - I couldn't really see any reason for her to laugh out loud at me or it. I looked back at her quizzically, and she responded by telling me that Sarahs are generally obsessed with that h. I asked her what she meant, and the answer was intriguing to me.
Apparently, whether you have an h or not, if your name is Sarah, (or Sara,) you are worried about it. She said it's not even just the Sarahs with the h that talk about it. She said the ones without the h will say, "Sara. Without an h." So apparently, regardless of how we spell it, we all have that h on our minds. How entertaining!
The really intriguing thing she told me, though, was that no one else seems to have that same obsession with getting their name spelled right. For example, she said her name is Sherry, and it gets spelled all kinds of ways, but she doesn't care. She said, neither does anyone else, at least not to mention it. But every Sara or Sarah brings up that h, for some reason.
I am rather intrigued at the idea that we are all worried about our h. The economy is crashing and burning, the world is a mess generally, but by golly, we are not going to lose our h along with everything else.
It makes me wonder, what is it about our name, in particular, that sets off this possessiveness of all our letters? This desire to leave no h behind? What is it about all of us Sarahs, that we are tied together in the desire to hang on to all our letters, and not lose any of them somewhere along the line? I am fascinated at the thought that somehow, we have all had some common experience that leads us to be possessive, or dispossessive, of all the letters in our name, showing up exactly where they belong, in a nice neat row.
I, personally, have been known to insert the h where it belongs on all kinds of pre-printed items. If it's spelled wrong, rest assured it will be corrected one way or another, and you will see an h awkwardly added somehow, even if it's falling off the end of my name like the afterthought it obviously was.
Of course, there are some people, when you tell them you want your h, who get flustered and discomfited, and don't know where to put it. I have had my name spelled in the most amazing ways - from Sarha to Shara to Saraha. For some reason, that h just seems to confound.
Then there is my cousin who nicknamed me Sahara Desert when we were young, but that's another story altogether. Although, come to think of it, that might explain my rather unnatural need to have water available at all times. And I answer pretty readily to "Des" even now.
As I explained to the barista at Starbucks, there is nothing wrong with the name Sara. It's fine, if that is your name. However, it is not my name. My name is Sarah. They are different. You might as well just call me Dave, as leave off my h.
All in all, I am entertained that the Sarahs of the world are united by something more than name only. It seems, from somewhere deep inside of us, we are also a little crazy. At least about our h.
What is in a name? Well, when your name is Sarah, it has an h, at the very least. Or it should, anyway. But all too often, that h gets left off, misplaced right out of the picture, sort of like a train without its caboose. And we all know that the caboose is the fun part with the guy who waves as he goes by. So, in short, my h is important to me.
I was always under the impression that this was a personal quirk of mine, but it seems that I am not alone. I found this out the other day when I met my boss for a mid-week meeting at Starbucks. I breezed in a few minutes late, as usual, and rushed to the counter to make my order. When she asked my name, I replied as I always do, "Sarah. With an h."
She looked at me sort of funny, then laughed right out loud. Since I don't think there is anything really funny about the name Sarah - it's not my favorite name, but it's mine, so I live with it - I couldn't really see any reason for her to laugh out loud at me or it. I looked back at her quizzically, and she responded by telling me that Sarahs are generally obsessed with that h. I asked her what she meant, and the answer was intriguing to me.
Apparently, whether you have an h or not, if your name is Sarah, (or Sara,) you are worried about it. She said it's not even just the Sarahs with the h that talk about it. She said the ones without the h will say, "Sara. Without an h." So apparently, regardless of how we spell it, we all have that h on our minds. How entertaining!
The really intriguing thing she told me, though, was that no one else seems to have that same obsession with getting their name spelled right. For example, she said her name is Sherry, and it gets spelled all kinds of ways, but she doesn't care. She said, neither does anyone else, at least not to mention it. But every Sara or Sarah brings up that h, for some reason.
I am rather intrigued at the idea that we are all worried about our h. The economy is crashing and burning, the world is a mess generally, but by golly, we are not going to lose our h along with everything else.
It makes me wonder, what is it about our name, in particular, that sets off this possessiveness of all our letters? This desire to leave no h behind? What is it about all of us Sarahs, that we are tied together in the desire to hang on to all our letters, and not lose any of them somewhere along the line? I am fascinated at the thought that somehow, we have all had some common experience that leads us to be possessive, or dispossessive, of all the letters in our name, showing up exactly where they belong, in a nice neat row.
I, personally, have been known to insert the h where it belongs on all kinds of pre-printed items. If it's spelled wrong, rest assured it will be corrected one way or another, and you will see an h awkwardly added somehow, even if it's falling off the end of my name like the afterthought it obviously was.
Of course, there are some people, when you tell them you want your h, who get flustered and discomfited, and don't know where to put it. I have had my name spelled in the most amazing ways - from Sarha to Shara to Saraha. For some reason, that h just seems to confound.
Then there is my cousin who nicknamed me Sahara Desert when we were young, but that's another story altogether. Although, come to think of it, that might explain my rather unnatural need to have water available at all times. And I answer pretty readily to "Des" even now.
As I explained to the barista at Starbucks, there is nothing wrong with the name Sara. It's fine, if that is your name. However, it is not my name. My name is Sarah. They are different. You might as well just call me Dave, as leave off my h.
All in all, I am entertained that the Sarahs of the world are united by something more than name only. It seems, from somewhere deep inside of us, we are also a little crazy. At least about our h.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Kiss off....
I learned yesterday that kissing has been the subject of some recent hot study. Researchers have now learned that for 66% of women, the first kiss should be the last, because she is just not that into him.
Men are less choosy, it seems, [I know I'm shocked, how about you?] with about 59% of men deciding to give it up as a lost cause after the first kiss. I don't know - that sounds rather high to me. Men, from my own personal observation, will make eyes at anything that looks back with admiration, especially the mirror. Do you think that is why so many men like dogs?
I have known a few men in my time. I may have even kissed a few of them, but I'm not one to kiss and tell. The idea that people are making Ever After life choices based on that rather insignificant moment in time is somewhat baffling to me. Perhaps this is the answer to where I went wrong in my own decision-making process? I should have paid more attention when I realized that my ex, Mr. Peacock, was gazing so attentively into my eyes because he was seeing his own reflection rather than to what was happening between locked lips.
Kissing is an inter-species activity. Cats touch noses in a show of familiarity and courage that has all the earmarks of a kiss. Dogs kiss everything and everyone that comes within tongue length, a slobbery show of affection that is carried out with complete abandon for those they love.
Kissing is not just for lovers, though. In fact, I would guess that most kisses are exchanged between those for whom romantic love is not in the picture. Parents kiss their young children, and children kiss back with wet, sloppy gifts of affection that leave you sticky until your next shower. Not unlike an animal marking you with its scent, I suspect.
Friends will give each other a kiss on the cheek, and in some circles, especially if you are Gaelic, a kiss thrown across the air is part of a standard greeting. We give kisses to show affection, support or sympathy, a physical display that needs no explanation.
There are many different kinds of kisses, of course. There are short, brief kisses, and long, drawn out affairs. But one thing researchers learned is that you discover a lot about another person subconsciously by kissing them. The area around the mouth and nose is one of the most sensitive areas of the body, and your sense of smell and touch are in full play when you are kissing someone. You pick up all kinds of subconscious cues from the object of your affection, and they can learn some things about you, too.
So, getting back to Valentine's Day, which, if you missed the advertising blitz, was yesterday. Valentine's Day is positively designed for disaster, if you ask me. The retail world sets us up for failure right off the top.
Women have unrealistic expectations, because that is what we do, and consequently, that is what is being sold - advertisers still think we are looking for that knight in shining armour to sweep us off our feet and carry us off on the white horse to Happily Ever After Land. And they must not be entirely wrong, because we do have Valentine's Day as exhibit one for the fact that it works.
In the meantime, no man is ever going to get the perfect gift, since none of them are mind readers, and women don't consider any gift you have to ask for to be perfect. I have to say, I feel for the men on that one, because it's a lose/lose deal for them. On the other hand, they seem to get most of the other breaks in life, so perhaps this is nature's way of achieving balance. I dunno.
A brief digression here. [You knew it was coming, so just stop your sighing and soldier on.] Have you ever noticed how as men age, they supposedly get more distinguished, and attract increasingly younger dates? While as women age, they just looked aged, and hope for someone ten years older to notice them? What is that about? Why is aged wine a good thing, and aged women bad? Mr. Dandy is now dating a woman that wasn't born when he graduated from college, while I am dating...? Oh, that's right. No one. It is a perverse universe, I tell you.
Anyway, back to the topic at hand. It now seems our hormones are ever vigilant and looking for the flaws in every potential mate, too, even if we think we know what we're doing. How anyone ever gets together is a mystery to me, since everything seems to be stacked against success. I say, give me chocolate, instead. It's a less complicated relationship.
There was probably a lot of kissing going on around the country last night, although certainly none of it at my house. [Unless you count my dogs, who give me more adoration than is really seemly, which is why I keep them around.] If researchers are right, there are probably a lot of relationships that ended as well, which is probably a good thing, given the divorce rate in this country. Apparently, we should all pay more attention to that first kiss.
Personally, I like mine wrapped in foil, with a little Hershey's flag waving bravely from the top. If you want to find the way to my heart, that's the road map you should follow.
Men are less choosy, it seems, [I know I'm shocked, how about you?] with about 59% of men deciding to give it up as a lost cause after the first kiss. I don't know - that sounds rather high to me. Men, from my own personal observation, will make eyes at anything that looks back with admiration, especially the mirror. Do you think that is why so many men like dogs?
I have known a few men in my time. I may have even kissed a few of them, but I'm not one to kiss and tell. The idea that people are making Ever After life choices based on that rather insignificant moment in time is somewhat baffling to me. Perhaps this is the answer to where I went wrong in my own decision-making process? I should have paid more attention when I realized that my ex, Mr. Peacock, was gazing so attentively into my eyes because he was seeing his own reflection rather than to what was happening between locked lips.
Kissing is an inter-species activity. Cats touch noses in a show of familiarity and courage that has all the earmarks of a kiss. Dogs kiss everything and everyone that comes within tongue length, a slobbery show of affection that is carried out with complete abandon for those they love.
Kissing is not just for lovers, though. In fact, I would guess that most kisses are exchanged between those for whom romantic love is not in the picture. Parents kiss their young children, and children kiss back with wet, sloppy gifts of affection that leave you sticky until your next shower. Not unlike an animal marking you with its scent, I suspect.
Friends will give each other a kiss on the cheek, and in some circles, especially if you are Gaelic, a kiss thrown across the air is part of a standard greeting. We give kisses to show affection, support or sympathy, a physical display that needs no explanation.
There are many different kinds of kisses, of course. There are short, brief kisses, and long, drawn out affairs. But one thing researchers learned is that you discover a lot about another person subconsciously by kissing them. The area around the mouth and nose is one of the most sensitive areas of the body, and your sense of smell and touch are in full play when you are kissing someone. You pick up all kinds of subconscious cues from the object of your affection, and they can learn some things about you, too.
So, getting back to Valentine's Day, which, if you missed the advertising blitz, was yesterday. Valentine's Day is positively designed for disaster, if you ask me. The retail world sets us up for failure right off the top.
Women have unrealistic expectations, because that is what we do, and consequently, that is what is being sold - advertisers still think we are looking for that knight in shining armour to sweep us off our feet and carry us off on the white horse to Happily Ever After Land. And they must not be entirely wrong, because we do have Valentine's Day as exhibit one for the fact that it works.
In the meantime, no man is ever going to get the perfect gift, since none of them are mind readers, and women don't consider any gift you have to ask for to be perfect. I have to say, I feel for the men on that one, because it's a lose/lose deal for them. On the other hand, they seem to get most of the other breaks in life, so perhaps this is nature's way of achieving balance. I dunno.
A brief digression here. [You knew it was coming, so just stop your sighing and soldier on.] Have you ever noticed how as men age, they supposedly get more distinguished, and attract increasingly younger dates? While as women age, they just looked aged, and hope for someone ten years older to notice them? What is that about? Why is aged wine a good thing, and aged women bad? Mr. Dandy is now dating a woman that wasn't born when he graduated from college, while I am dating...? Oh, that's right. No one. It is a perverse universe, I tell you.
Anyway, back to the topic at hand. It now seems our hormones are ever vigilant and looking for the flaws in every potential mate, too, even if we think we know what we're doing. How anyone ever gets together is a mystery to me, since everything seems to be stacked against success. I say, give me chocolate, instead. It's a less complicated relationship.
There was probably a lot of kissing going on around the country last night, although certainly none of it at my house. [Unless you count my dogs, who give me more adoration than is really seemly, which is why I keep them around.] If researchers are right, there are probably a lot of relationships that ended as well, which is probably a good thing, given the divorce rate in this country. Apparently, we should all pay more attention to that first kiss.
Personally, I like mine wrapped in foil, with a little Hershey's flag waving bravely from the top. If you want to find the way to my heart, that's the road map you should follow.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Photographic memories....
I have a cousin who is putting old family photos online for all of us to enjoy. I have to be honest, I am really pleased to be the beneficiary of her largess. Instead of keeping these things to herself, she is allowing the entire extended group, of which there are a lot of us, the opportunity to enjoy these pictures, and the relationships shown in them, vicariously.
Back when these photos were taken, in the 40's and 50's, photographs were expensive to obtain, and they didn't waste time documenting every minute of their lives. Instead, they wanted a snapshot to remind them of happy times together, with the people who mattered most. Although there are some friends included, and extended relatives, it's interesting to see how many of them are with each other. Arms around each other's waists, revealing photos of adoring younger sisters gazing at their older brother, or brides and grooms looking so young and happy together, and lots of babies being held by everyone - it's self-evident how much they loved each other, and how important these people were to them.
It is interesting to contrast these photos with the pictures that my daughter puts online of herself and her friends on their facebook pages. I can hardly get my daughter to take a picture with me these days, and as a consequence, we have very few of the two of us from her teenaged years. She would rather pose and make funny faces with her friends to publish to the world - it's more fun, and after all, she sees me all the time. She doesn't worry about posterity - she is still young, and the future is a long ways away.
My dad was our family photographer, and thus, we have very few pictures of him. He always had the movie camera in front of his face, and he was a genius at recognizing that you should document the everyday moments, because that is what you will want to remember in years to come. So his movies have lots of film of children playing and people laughing and having a good time together, eating and celebrating the holidays and the family times. If we were on vacation, he included the scenery, of course. But if you really pay attention, the scenery is a backdrop for the people in front of it - a pretty background for what really mattered to him. In fact, he faithfully documented everything but the one thing I most wish for - some photographs of him, just being himself.
How I wish, now, that we had been smarter, and turned the camera on him sometimes. I wish that I could bring him back for more than the fleeting moment of movie film that we have, when he is here and gone again for a flickering second, or a mere photograph or two. I lost my dad when I was 12, so my internal vision is of a little girl for her daddy. I love to see the photographs where he is framed by someone else's vision. It gives me an insight into the father that I never had a chance to know.
And yet, I haven't learned from my own experience. I realized, after Christmas this year, that there are virtually no photos of me, other than the posed family shots that we take each year to memorialize our aging group. There are no candid shots, no moments where I am caught unawares, and therefore, most myself. I regret that I am leaving little record for my own children to have, and I wonder if they will be as frustrated in years to come as I am now with my own father for being so elusive.
Kids today take photos for granted. They have had their entire lives documented in minute detail, each milestone duly recorded, their every moment preserved forever in a celluloid world that no one has time to watch. I wonder how many of those parents enjoyed those moments in the moment, though. I always feel like I am a step removed if I have the video camera in front of my face, more concerned about getting The Shot than enjoying the occasion.
As a result, I stopped engaging in that behavior a few years ago. My video camera is broken, in fact. And while I probably should be sorry, and get a new one, I find I don't really care all that much. I don't ever watch those videos anyway, and I would rather enjoy the moments as they come. But will my children be regret-filled, because they have nothing left of me when I am no longer here with them?
We have recently heard in the news about kids photographing the most foolish behaviors, and then posting them online for all the world to see. From a group of girls videotaping themselves beating their friend nearly to death, just for the fun of seeing it on You Tube, to a famous Olympian inhaling from a bong, it is sort of shocking to me that they could be so stupid, so lacking in the common sense that would prevent them from self-destructing in that way.
But I think a lot of their problem is simply that they are so accustomed to being photographed, it is part of their natural environment, and they don't even notice it any more. They don't worry about privacy or even that their boss or teacher might see the offending picture, because it doesn't occur to them that it might be an issue. They might check with Michael Phelps to see whether that is a smart way to handle themselves.
And that is what has struck me this morning, as I perused my cousin's treasure trove of memories. That difference in attitude shows up in the family album that she is posting online. Back then, they saved the expensive photos for the people that were most important to them. They didn't waste that precious money on the trivial or people who wouldn't be there forever. Instead, they wanted to memorialize those that were most valued, to record the moments that would be important in their own, and the family's, history.
Today, kids take photos of everything but the important moments. They have cameras on their cell phones, and document everything their friends do, so they will have a record of their daily life that will be unmatched. But I wonder how many of them have pictures of their parents or their grandparents in an album somewhere?
When they look back with their grandchildren fifty years from now, I wonder how many of these people they will be able to name, much less still care about? Will they even know the people who fill their albums or their memory bank of photos? Instead of looking at treasured family members long gone, and recollecting the stories that the sight of their faces will trigger, will they be looking at empty memories of times that, in the long run, didn't really matter at all?
My cousin has a treasure trove of memories on her new blogspot - one to which we can each contribute. We all need to go through the family albums and find those wonderful photos of years gone by, and the people we love, so we can all share in it and be a part of that history, too.
Take a picture with someone important to you today. Life is short - you have no time to waste. Save your history for your descendants. And don't forget to put the names and dates on them. That way you will never forget, and your memories can come alive for your grandchildren, and their grandchildren, too.
Back when these photos were taken, in the 40's and 50's, photographs were expensive to obtain, and they didn't waste time documenting every minute of their lives. Instead, they wanted a snapshot to remind them of happy times together, with the people who mattered most. Although there are some friends included, and extended relatives, it's interesting to see how many of them are with each other. Arms around each other's waists, revealing photos of adoring younger sisters gazing at their older brother, or brides and grooms looking so young and happy together, and lots of babies being held by everyone - it's self-evident how much they loved each other, and how important these people were to them.
It is interesting to contrast these photos with the pictures that my daughter puts online of herself and her friends on their facebook pages. I can hardly get my daughter to take a picture with me these days, and as a consequence, we have very few of the two of us from her teenaged years. She would rather pose and make funny faces with her friends to publish to the world - it's more fun, and after all, she sees me all the time. She doesn't worry about posterity - she is still young, and the future is a long ways away.
My dad was our family photographer, and thus, we have very few pictures of him. He always had the movie camera in front of his face, and he was a genius at recognizing that you should document the everyday moments, because that is what you will want to remember in years to come. So his movies have lots of film of children playing and people laughing and having a good time together, eating and celebrating the holidays and the family times. If we were on vacation, he included the scenery, of course. But if you really pay attention, the scenery is a backdrop for the people in front of it - a pretty background for what really mattered to him. In fact, he faithfully documented everything but the one thing I most wish for - some photographs of him, just being himself.
How I wish, now, that we had been smarter, and turned the camera on him sometimes. I wish that I could bring him back for more than the fleeting moment of movie film that we have, when he is here and gone again for a flickering second, or a mere photograph or two. I lost my dad when I was 12, so my internal vision is of a little girl for her daddy. I love to see the photographs where he is framed by someone else's vision. It gives me an insight into the father that I never had a chance to know.
And yet, I haven't learned from my own experience. I realized, after Christmas this year, that there are virtually no photos of me, other than the posed family shots that we take each year to memorialize our aging group. There are no candid shots, no moments where I am caught unawares, and therefore, most myself. I regret that I am leaving little record for my own children to have, and I wonder if they will be as frustrated in years to come as I am now with my own father for being so elusive.
Kids today take photos for granted. They have had their entire lives documented in minute detail, each milestone duly recorded, their every moment preserved forever in a celluloid world that no one has time to watch. I wonder how many of those parents enjoyed those moments in the moment, though. I always feel like I am a step removed if I have the video camera in front of my face, more concerned about getting The Shot than enjoying the occasion.
As a result, I stopped engaging in that behavior a few years ago. My video camera is broken, in fact. And while I probably should be sorry, and get a new one, I find I don't really care all that much. I don't ever watch those videos anyway, and I would rather enjoy the moments as they come. But will my children be regret-filled, because they have nothing left of me when I am no longer here with them?
We have recently heard in the news about kids photographing the most foolish behaviors, and then posting them online for all the world to see. From a group of girls videotaping themselves beating their friend nearly to death, just for the fun of seeing it on You Tube, to a famous Olympian inhaling from a bong, it is sort of shocking to me that they could be so stupid, so lacking in the common sense that would prevent them from self-destructing in that way.
But I think a lot of their problem is simply that they are so accustomed to being photographed, it is part of their natural environment, and they don't even notice it any more. They don't worry about privacy or even that their boss or teacher might see the offending picture, because it doesn't occur to them that it might be an issue. They might check with Michael Phelps to see whether that is a smart way to handle themselves.
And that is what has struck me this morning, as I perused my cousin's treasure trove of memories. That difference in attitude shows up in the family album that she is posting online. Back then, they saved the expensive photos for the people that were most important to them. They didn't waste that precious money on the trivial or people who wouldn't be there forever. Instead, they wanted to memorialize those that were most valued, to record the moments that would be important in their own, and the family's, history.
Today, kids take photos of everything but the important moments. They have cameras on their cell phones, and document everything their friends do, so they will have a record of their daily life that will be unmatched. But I wonder how many of them have pictures of their parents or their grandparents in an album somewhere?
When they look back with their grandchildren fifty years from now, I wonder how many of these people they will be able to name, much less still care about? Will they even know the people who fill their albums or their memory bank of photos? Instead of looking at treasured family members long gone, and recollecting the stories that the sight of their faces will trigger, will they be looking at empty memories of times that, in the long run, didn't really matter at all?
My cousin has a treasure trove of memories on her new blogspot - one to which we can each contribute. We all need to go through the family albums and find those wonderful photos of years gone by, and the people we love, so we can all share in it and be a part of that history, too.
Take a picture with someone important to you today. Life is short - you have no time to waste. Save your history for your descendants. And don't forget to put the names and dates on them. That way you will never forget, and your memories can come alive for your grandchildren, and their grandchildren, too.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Mark and Gloria's Excellent Adventure, Redoux....
Several people have kindly requested an update on Mark and Gloria's excellent adventure. For those playing along at home, Mark and Gloria are the not-so-esteemed mayor of Kansas City, Mark Funkhouser, and his wife, Gloria Squitiro.
This tale began a year ago, moments after Mark was sworn into office, with the discrimination lawsuit filed by a former employee in the mayor's office, who found the ever-present Volunteer Gloria's remarks, such as calling her Mammy, thus leading to the term, Mammy-gate, offensive. [Personally, I think this Mayorship was a dead horse right out of the gate, but maybe that's just me. Oh, and did I mention the aggrieved suit-filer is African American, something which apparently slipped Gloria's notice during the preceding 15 years of friendship?]
Add to that the Mayor's oft-stated desire to have Gloria on site to hold his hand (or feet) while he works, and the outcome was obvious. Gloria has been banned from city hall by law, a thumb of the nose passed by the council especially for her.
I would give winners and losers, here, but I'm not sure which is which, except the populace, who have clearly lost their minds by electing this whole bunch in the first place.
To continue the recap of previous episodes, that was when they put the wheels under their circus and hit the road. First, they moved the mayor's office from city hall to their home in the Brookside area of the city. Next, and I think this is my favorite part, they are suing the city to try to get the law undone. Then they went to New York to tattle about it all on the national morning shows.
So, to sum up, they are now running the city of Kansas City out of their home, and Mark continues to be unable to function as mayor without her. Of course, if it weren't for negative publicity, Kansas City wouldn't get any, and at least they weren't talking about the murder rate. Nero continues to play, Rome continues to burn and all that.
But it seems they aren't finished with us yet. I am happy to provide the update that they have once again taken their traveling show mobile. Now that the furor has died down, [apparently there are some actual problems out there in the real world to be dealt with, and the council is busily trying to figure out where the missing $50 million in the budget is going to come from,] and to the amusement of virtually everyone (except the actual residents of KC, of course,) Mark and Gloria have once again put wheels to the pavement. In the latest wrinkle in our time, they are now holding their weekly staff meetings in the public library branch halfway between their home and city hall.
This shortens the drive time for the confused employees who actually do show up for work downtown at headquarters, and who are not getting reimbursed by the city for their travel costs associated with this out of grounds [or out of bounds, if you ask the public] meeting. I am sure it's entirely by coincidence that this has put the whole spectacle squarely back into the public eye, just as it was all fading from view.
The best comment I read was from a city council member, who gave the tight lipped response, "It's a very fine library. I'm sure they will find the accommodations to be excellent."
In these days of budget tightening, it seems Mark and Glo may have actually found a creative new way to cut costs. Let's just get rid of city hall, and conduct the city's business like a telecommuting job with meetings at the local library. Hey, as a young man I know pointed out, the President runs the whole country out of his house, so it can work. Kudos to them for economizing.
I'm not so sure the people of KC are well served this way, but on the other hand, I'm not so sure they are any worse off, either. Dysfunctional family that they are, they rarely accomplish anything to write home about, anyway, so if this reduces the antics of the elected and not so elected officials in charge, perhaps that is all for the best.
I am amused at the idea of a mayor who thinks you can take the whole city on a field trip to his own home. (Of course, it's a lot easier to be entertained when it's not your mayor, but since I live in the suburbs, we sort of have to claim him by proxy, anyway.) For an auditor, which is what he is by training, he is a pretty creative thinker. He was given a problem - the removal of his wife from his side for part of each day - and he has problem solved and come up with a solution - city hall is now a mobile enterprise.
While I don't really envision this as a long term plan for effective leadership, there is no doubt that he is not hiding in his office at city hall. Meeting in the library, he is out in the community, seeing the public, and being seen. In truth, I suspect this mayor may be more in touch with the common man than any mayor in a long time.
For the life of me, I can't understand why I feel this way, because he has been a complete fool in his handling of this whole situation, but he is starting to intrigue me and win me over. His bold certainty of the righteousness of his position in the face of total opposition is sort of inspiring, in a weird kind of way. Maybe it's because I'm divorced, and my ex, Mr. Unfaithful, would have thrown me over for a dirty sock, (in fact, he more or less did, if you count the woman to whom that sock was attached,) but that kind of devotion to his wife looks rather astounding, from where I sit.
If Hizzonor is willing to be this devoted to his wife, I wonder if he is also this devoted to the people who elected him. He was a very fine auditor for many years, always willing to take on city hall if there was a need, and unflinching in his dedication to holding the city leaders to the fire. It seems, from the outside, that he has become confused about who is in charge, but maybe, in the end, it's him that has it right.
Perhaps we are so accustomed to politicians bending to the will of every prevailing wind, we don't know character when we see it.
Or maybe he is just as crazy as we all think he is, and this is just the latest installment of the civic experiment gone awry.
I don't know, but I will keep you up to date as this reality show continues to entertain from coast to coast. Take heart. He runs for re-election in two years, and he has already thrown his hat into the ring. While the local newspaper has withdrawn it's endorsement from the last time around, [I never knew they could retrospectively withdraw endorsements - too bad we can't do that with our votes when things don't work out the way we expect,] and recall petitions have been floated, he boldly stated that he will not only run, but win. This could be pretty good entertainment. And the best part is, it's all free.
This tale began a year ago, moments after Mark was sworn into office, with the discrimination lawsuit filed by a former employee in the mayor's office, who found the ever-present Volunteer Gloria's remarks, such as calling her Mammy, thus leading to the term, Mammy-gate, offensive. [Personally, I think this Mayorship was a dead horse right out of the gate, but maybe that's just me. Oh, and did I mention the aggrieved suit-filer is African American, something which apparently slipped Gloria's notice during the preceding 15 years of friendship?]
Add to that the Mayor's oft-stated desire to have Gloria on site to hold his hand (or feet) while he works, and the outcome was obvious. Gloria has been banned from city hall by law, a thumb of the nose passed by the council especially for her.
I would give winners and losers, here, but I'm not sure which is which, except the populace, who have clearly lost their minds by electing this whole bunch in the first place.
To continue the recap of previous episodes, that was when they put the wheels under their circus and hit the road. First, they moved the mayor's office from city hall to their home in the Brookside area of the city. Next, and I think this is my favorite part, they are suing the city to try to get the law undone. Then they went to New York to tattle about it all on the national morning shows.
So, to sum up, they are now running the city of Kansas City out of their home, and Mark continues to be unable to function as mayor without her. Of course, if it weren't for negative publicity, Kansas City wouldn't get any, and at least they weren't talking about the murder rate. Nero continues to play, Rome continues to burn and all that.
But it seems they aren't finished with us yet. I am happy to provide the update that they have once again taken their traveling show mobile. Now that the furor has died down, [apparently there are some actual problems out there in the real world to be dealt with, and the council is busily trying to figure out where the missing $50 million in the budget is going to come from,] and to the amusement of virtually everyone (except the actual residents of KC, of course,) Mark and Gloria have once again put wheels to the pavement. In the latest wrinkle in our time, they are now holding their weekly staff meetings in the public library branch halfway between their home and city hall.
This shortens the drive time for the confused employees who actually do show up for work downtown at headquarters, and who are not getting reimbursed by the city for their travel costs associated with this out of grounds [or out of bounds, if you ask the public] meeting. I am sure it's entirely by coincidence that this has put the whole spectacle squarely back into the public eye, just as it was all fading from view.
The best comment I read was from a city council member, who gave the tight lipped response, "It's a very fine library. I'm sure they will find the accommodations to be excellent."
In these days of budget tightening, it seems Mark and Glo may have actually found a creative new way to cut costs. Let's just get rid of city hall, and conduct the city's business like a telecommuting job with meetings at the local library. Hey, as a young man I know pointed out, the President runs the whole country out of his house, so it can work. Kudos to them for economizing.
I'm not so sure the people of KC are well served this way, but on the other hand, I'm not so sure they are any worse off, either. Dysfunctional family that they are, they rarely accomplish anything to write home about, anyway, so if this reduces the antics of the elected and not so elected officials in charge, perhaps that is all for the best.
I am amused at the idea of a mayor who thinks you can take the whole city on a field trip to his own home. (Of course, it's a lot easier to be entertained when it's not your mayor, but since I live in the suburbs, we sort of have to claim him by proxy, anyway.) For an auditor, which is what he is by training, he is a pretty creative thinker. He was given a problem - the removal of his wife from his side for part of each day - and he has problem solved and come up with a solution - city hall is now a mobile enterprise.
While I don't really envision this as a long term plan for effective leadership, there is no doubt that he is not hiding in his office at city hall. Meeting in the library, he is out in the community, seeing the public, and being seen. In truth, I suspect this mayor may be more in touch with the common man than any mayor in a long time.
For the life of me, I can't understand why I feel this way, because he has been a complete fool in his handling of this whole situation, but he is starting to intrigue me and win me over. His bold certainty of the righteousness of his position in the face of total opposition is sort of inspiring, in a weird kind of way. Maybe it's because I'm divorced, and my ex, Mr. Unfaithful, would have thrown me over for a dirty sock, (in fact, he more or less did, if you count the woman to whom that sock was attached,) but that kind of devotion to his wife looks rather astounding, from where I sit.
If Hizzonor is willing to be this devoted to his wife, I wonder if he is also this devoted to the people who elected him. He was a very fine auditor for many years, always willing to take on city hall if there was a need, and unflinching in his dedication to holding the city leaders to the fire. It seems, from the outside, that he has become confused about who is in charge, but maybe, in the end, it's him that has it right.
Perhaps we are so accustomed to politicians bending to the will of every prevailing wind, we don't know character when we see it.
Or maybe he is just as crazy as we all think he is, and this is just the latest installment of the civic experiment gone awry.
I don't know, but I will keep you up to date as this reality show continues to entertain from coast to coast. Take heart. He runs for re-election in two years, and he has already thrown his hat into the ring. While the local newspaper has withdrawn it's endorsement from the last time around, [I never knew they could retrospectively withdraw endorsements - too bad we can't do that with our votes when things don't work out the way we expect,] and recall petitions have been floated, he boldly stated that he will not only run, but win. This could be pretty good entertainment. And the best part is, it's all free.
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