iPhone,...aggravation....

My Samsung Galaxy S3 screen got cracked and stopped working.  So,... I have been stuck with an iPhone for the time being.  I told my boss that I am learning Chinese.  I have never been able to figure these rotten apple devices.  I spent the better part of a day with a Mac once,.... so foreign to a PC user.  I can do anything with/on a PC or pc compatible device,.... anything.
This thing has a different phone number --what a pain in the eema!  My entire life was on that frigging phone!!  I lost my calendar, my notes, lists,... a ton of data!

The dang iPhone 4S is so small, it would fit inside of my Galaxy S3!  I had a tough time typing anything on the S3, this is worse!  very aggravating.  And, the iPhone was placed on my desk with no charger, so I could not get much done over the weekend either.

the iPhone sucks for Facebook too.  this is a miserable experience.

Things generational and mad men....

A few days ago a friend posted something on Facebook about her Dad having to answer the telephone, he promptly told the caller, “hold on while I get my wife.”  He did not want to talk on the telephone.

My Dad would not answer the phone! I may have seen him answer the phone one time in 10 years, ONLY because my mother was upstairs and the only phone in that house was on the ground floor. It was the ONLY time I ever saw him talk on the phone.

I think that was what I refer to as “generational”.  In my Dad’s era answering the telephone was part of the wife’s job.  There was never any doubt that my mother was not a “housewife” but a home-maker and that was her job.  Now that could be due to the fact that my mother worked for my father in the capacity of childcare-giver and housekeeper.  Taking care of the house was her job and that did not change when they decided to marry, nor should it have changed.  But that was the era; it was generational. 

The past few weeks I have been watching the AMC series Mad Men, a program about men in the advertising business in the early 1960’s, and about life in general in that era.  I have thought a good bit about things being generational and how much the world has changed since I was a child.

My father worked, he raised hybrid carnations in greenhouses, and chrysanthemums in the fields out back.  It was similar to being a farmer, in that we lived right there, where the greenhouses were located, like many, many families of flower growers (also known as florists). My father worked outside of the home, and my mother worked inside of the home.  In that era most mothers worked in the home, taking care of everything from child rearing to cooking meals to paying the household bills.

So, much like Don Draper’s wife Betty, my friends mothers, my aunts, the majority of women in that generation were home-makers.  The father’s, like Don, worked outside the home and practically had whole other lives out in the world.

On the other side of the generational divide, I have never been solely a home-maker.  I have always had to work outside of the home, or I would not even have a home.  For as long as I have been in the workforce it seems like there are more women workers than men –based on the industries I have worked in: retail for many years and then office work for more years.

If you watch Mad Men, watch Peggy, she is the type of woman who were at the forefront of feminism without realizing that fact.  The part I find most interesting is that, while Peggy was considered to be a secretary, she was given advertising assignments for products that the men were extremely uncomfortable dealing with. It is interesting to observe the different take on such products from the uptight men versus the young woman, Peggy, who is obviously hiding the fact that she is more savvy about the world than most of her peers.

And, getting back to my parents, they were actually of different generations themselves, my father being 17 years older than my mother.  My father never flew in an airplane, my mother became rather well-traveled in the second half of her life, flying at least annually for many years.  Maybe that was generational and maybe it was just that my mother’s idea of adventure was so much broader than my father’s.

Anyway, I like to watch people and observe the generational differences.  Even those differences between myself and co-workers who are only a few years old than I am.

seize the adventure!

Today I attended a meetup of some people from the town where I grew up.  Other than some Facebook contact these people were all strangers to me.  Yes, I did know a few of the last names, but for all intents and purposes I had never actually met any of them before in person.

I had made a point of reminding some other former Des Plaines residents of this meeting – people I do know in person from my youth.  These folks replied to me that they did not initially want to attend today’s meeting because they thought that “no one I know will be there.”

This is a type of thinking that I do not understand.  We all grew up, or spent a portion of our formative years, in the same town.  Our home town.  So many years have gone by, and personally, I want to meet  and talk with anyone from my home town, anyone at all.  There were folks from age 44 to age 84 at the meetup.  It sure would have been nice if more people had attended.

Why would you be afraid to meet someone new, who happened to be from your home town?  Not only that, but how delightful to meet someone of an older age who knows so much of the history of the area!

As I have gotten older I have it more and more delightful to meet and chat with people who were previously strangers to me.  What a wonderful wealth of ideas, beliefs, likes, and dislikes.  The variety of each of us being unique and the thrill of discovering that there are so many people in the world who like the same things, believe in the same things! And to learn of all the new and different possibilities in this magical life we have the privilege to experience.

Do not be afraid to talk to strangers in a group situation! Especially if you have something in common, like your home town!

Expand your horizons, widen the friend base, the way the world is now days is it not better to have a wider circle of friends?

This is the adventure of life!

Writer brain (1)

This has to do with where your imagination can go if you think too much and are a fan of television programs like Criminal Minds.

A couple of years ago I lived in a second floor apartment, with a door at ground level, at the bottom of a staircase.  There was a totally useless peephole in the door, could not see a darn thing through it. So,.... one day my doorbell rang.  I am not normally one to even answer the door.  If I don't know you are coming over, well, to be blunt, if you can't call ahead don't bother to ring my doorbell.  I am either not home or not dressed for company or even door answering for that matter. But I digress,...

My doorbell rang.  I was still wearing my work clothing.  I opened the door to see who it was.  There, on my doorstep, was a man with long windblown hair, bearded, blue jeans, t-shirt,... anyway, he was holding a note in his hand, showing it to me.  The note read, "My name is Mike. I live in the apartment below yours.  I am deaf.  I want you to know that I have device that allows me to watch television and "feel" the sound.  It may be very loud, so here is my phone number, so that you can text me if the loud noise is bothering you."  Ok.  I spoke slowly and looked directly at him, and said, "ok. thank you."  He said, "ok." in the guttural tones of a deaf person and turned to go.  Ok, whatever, I am good with this.
until......

I start thinking about this, in a Criminal Minds kind of way.....
Maybe this stranger really does not live in the apartment below mine.  Maybe he is some kind of serial killer, and he is trying to be certain that I am a woman, living alone in this apartment, and that I will just open my door any time the doorbell rings. 
Oh no!! He's staking out the complex and choosing victims!  It's right out of an episode of Criminal Minds,...or maybe it was CSI, or Law & Order,....
I just opened my door, like some kind of idiot just asking to be a victim! The kind of people I yell at in the television programs! 

This scraggly looking guy is going to stake out the building now, and watch for me to come home and ring my doorbell!!  Is he a rapist, or an ax-murderer?  a cannibal?  (fava beans and chianti.....)

Yes, my imagination can go wild.... apparently that is called 'writer's brain'.

Sometimes I just feel invisible. When I say to somebody have a good weekend no one responds at all.  Or when I am sitting at a table and someone’s having a conversation and I am trying to join in –but not take over, and they don’t acknowledge my presence at all.  Story of my life…..

It is very difficult for me, when I try to join a conversation that is already in progress.  Too often I feel that those involved are trying to turn their backs on me.  I am never sure if I should approach people who are talking to each other, no matter the circumstance.  And often I feel like I enter a room and everyone else gradually leaves the room until I am left alone.  I never know if they mean to abandon me, but it is very uncomfortable and hurtful to me.  I feel it to the depths of my being.

I have been known to leave a party without saying 'goodbye' to everyone, and no one is sure why I have left.  Well, I will tell you: if I feel shut out, if I feel like I have been left alone -the last person in a room.  If I try to join a conversation and am ignored.  If I am the last to enter a room and there is no place left to sit.

This is not a new condition for me.  I used to go places with my mother and her husband at times.... we would, all three of us, go into a room and start talking to people, those people would gradually leave the room until only the three of us were left.  I would then comment, "we can do this at home", and the three of us would chuckle.  But I always found it hurtful that people left the room.  I still find it uncomfortable, even more so now that I have no one to share that moment with at all.

It makes me feel like a total misfit.  In this way I have always related to the island of misfit toys,... they make me cry out of sympathy and understanding.

I love my uniqueness and have always been proud to be different, but it is a very lonely place sometimes, even in a house full of people.

It is both a blessing and a curse, to feel everything so deeply.

all we are is dust in the wind

I feel the winds of change starting to blow.  I am not altogether sure if it is for me that they blow.

I have particularly noticed postings on Facebook these past couple of days.

I have lately been experiencing malaise.  This feeling of being out of sorts with myself and my surroundings has apparently been coming on for a while now.

Today I saw angels in the clouds too, but the photos did not turn out. ..  ..  I have no plan to make a change, so I am curious as to what may come my way in the near future.

This has led me to do a little research, which was enjoyable, if not fruitful.  My theme was winds of change or blowing in the wind.  So naturally I have perused the lyrics of Bob Dylan’s song Blowin’ in the Wind,…. and then Kansas’ Dust in the Wind.  And I watched a video segment of the Mary Poppins flying nannies scene.  Wistful and amusing, in that order.  

Of course there are things I would like to change, but I feel powerless to make major life changes when to do so would be a huge gamble at this point.  Therefore, I will not enumerate the things I would like to change here.  It does make me think about how everyone would probably make some real changes, had we the real freedom to do so.  Lifestyles, dwellings, professions….. there are some areas where changing things would create difficulties that are beyond our ability to regain control of.

I also believe that God is leading me towards something…. Something or someplace that I am supposed to eventually be, hopefully doing good or gaining the ability to help someone or a group of persons.

In saying all of this I am thinking of a particular phrase that has recently come into my consciousness, which is very powerful for me:  You can DO it!  Spoken with the right inflection this gives me a feeling of power over at least something in my life.  A second phrase that holds import would be:  You have to want it. These two short phrases,…if only more people could use them, so much might be accomplished, both on a personal level and, in some cases, on a professional level.  I wish that I could plant these phrases in more places, so that, just maybe, more people could feel that feeling of  “yes! I CAN do it!”  

Anyway, I am waiting, somewhat impatiently now, to find out what these “winds of change” may bring.

Exciting things-- good things, I hope and pray.

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"Dust In The Wind"   Kansas

I close my eyes only for a moment, and the moment's gone
All my dreams pass before my eyes, a curiosity
Dust in the wind, all they are is dust in the wind
Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea
All we do crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see
Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind
Now, don't hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky
It slips away, and all your money won't another minute buy
Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind (all we are is dust in the wind)
Dust in the wind (everything is dust in the wind), everything is dust in the wind (the wind)

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"Blowin' In The Wind"    Bob Dylan

How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
How many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?
Yes, how many times must the cannon balls fly
Before they're forever banned?
The answer my friend is blowin' in the wind
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

Yes, how many years can a mountain exist
Before it's washed to the sea?
Yes, how many years can some people exist
Before they're allowed to be free?
Yes, how many times can a man turn his head
Pretending he just doesn't see?
The answer my friend is blowin' in the wind
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

Yes, how many times must a man look up
Before he can really see the sky?
Yes, how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry?
Yes, how many deaths will it take till he knows
That too many people have died?
The answer my friend is blowin' in the wind
The answer is blowin' in the wind.

Loss of a loved one....

Loss.  Loss of a loved one, or even a acquaintance,… well it can hit you hard.  And it hits you “where you live”, because we all know that we’re going to die.  Some choose not to think about death, as if denying it’s very existence will somehow stave it off.  Some won’t talk about death for the same reason, as if mentioning the words will bring it closer.

There are people we don’t want to lose.   Children, of course, because they are supposed to outlive their parents, and it is immeasurably heartbreaking to lose a child. 

We do not want to lose our parents, perhaps too much.  The Bible teaches us that God commands to “Honor Thy Father and Thy Mother”, but that should not be worship of the parents.  Worship of the parents is akin to idolatry, which there is a Commandment regarding also: “Thou shalt Not worship false idols”.  My Mother always said to me, “do not worship your parents. They are not perfect.”  (to which my reply was a smirk and “no worries there.”)  But seriously, people feel the loss of a parent very deeply.

My Father died just a few weeks before my tenth birthday.  I had not seen him for weeks, because he was in the hospital and they did not allow visitors under the age of 15.  That hurt me very deeply and has affected my entire life in ways that I cannot begin to explain and I will not try because they are very personal feelings for me.  

My Mother lived with me, in my home, for 12 years. At that point she was not able to take care of herself and had to go live in a nursing home.  She lived for another two and a half years.  (I strongly believe that had I kept her at home she would have been gone within weeks.)  She was well cared for, had friends, and was kept on her meds.  She passed peacefully, with a little smile on her face.  I know that the angels took her.  Her attitude was always “when God is ready for me He will take me” , and that acceptance on her part made her death so much gentler for me.

So, back to loss….  There have been a few people whose loss I have felt very deeply.  One or two were blood relations and one or two were not.  These are the people whose deaths touched me to my depth, because they were the ones who treated me kindly, or as an adult when I was not, and they were the best examples I have known of the good that can be found amongst humanity. 

  Like the Reader’s Digest Most Memorable Character, if you will….here are mine:

V. She was the mother of one of my first boyfriends.  She was kind and wise, and always there when I needed to talk to someone kind and wise.  She had a few children, and had learned some things about people from raising her family.  She knew to get people to talk to one another to work out differences, that was a way to keep peace in her home.  When I learned that she had cancer and was in hospice care I cried for an entire day.  Then I made for her a mix tape of hymns and of rock ‘n roll tunes that were of a hymnal bent.  I delivered the mix tape to her in person.  Later I attended her funeral, and wept some more.  V, I will never, ever forget you.

B. The wife of one of my cousins.  I spent some time at their home when I was about 12 years old, and she was just the sweetest woman.  Never had a bad word to say about anything.  I was mostly occupied playing games with her youngest daughter, but I have lovely memories of feeling safe and comfortable and cared for in that home.

J.D.  He was a teacher.  My seventh grade Spanish teacher.   Many of us liked to hang with him on the playground at lunch time, when he was a playground monitor.  His class was set up as self-study part of the time, and he played old 45’s while we studied.  I did not learn much Spanish, much to his chagrin, but I loved his class.  He took a small group of us on a trip to Mexico.  J.D.,  his wife, and another teacher and 15 twelve year old kids.  We had a blast.  I stayed friends with J.D. for the rest of his life, and visited his home in Las Vegas about 3 years before his death.  I think of him often and always will. 

V.S.W. she was my cousin.  I spent weeks at her house in the summers of my youth, from approximately ages 11 to 15, watching her daughter who was a few years younger than me.  Not really babysitting, because this girl was very easy to get along with.  But V.S.W. was a very nice person, who would go out of her way to help a relative.  She spent  time with my Mother, her Aunt, and it was very special to my Mother, so I do cherish the memory of V.S.W. very much.

Of course there were other people who were important to me, but these are the ones I think of most often, in my day to day life.   The feeling of loss never fully goes away.

Loss is hard.  We need to gather together in some fashion to remember the person soon after their death, and this is especially important if it was someone we loved.  I have seen a phrase that I really like and that motivates me to think of those I have lost who were so very important to me and it goes something like this:  A person is never really gone as long as someone speaks their name out loud.  I subscribe to that idea in that I believe that our loved ones do live on, in our hearts, and in the stories we can tell about the people who are no longer among us.  It is an important thing to remember those loved ones, to share our stories, it helps us, and who doesn't believe that our loved ones who have passed on want us to share their story, to keep their memory alive.

This writing comes about on a day when I have read two separate postings on Facebook by acquaintances of mine who have learned that a friend died today.  And, for me, only months after a dear friend passed into the next realm.  I will always miss you Lisa. ©

May those I have loved and lost watch over us who loved them, and Rest in Eternal Peace.