Kids

I saw something today, and it reminded me of when my son (he would have been twenty three now) was just a little guy, at that stage where he had finally started speaking clearly.  They are really cute then, and it’s probably a good thing they are so cute, because they do have a knack of repeating things…that don’t leave their parents in a very good light.

I remember that day so clearly still.  It was fall, and cold already–we were living in Minnesota that year.  It was late afternoon, and I hurried to the grocery store with him in tow.  Even though he was rather large for a three year old, I wanted him in the shopping cart.  It meant that he would be at least slowed down on the amazing faster-than-light speed with which he could disappear.  I just had a few things  to pick up, and it was mid-week.  It was also senior citizen day at the grocery store.

The day before, a little warmer and sunnier, I had played basketball on the pavement with the neighborhood kids and  my own kids.  Unfortunately, when scooping up the ball, I had ripped a fingernail backwards, tearing it away from the nail bed.  Anyone who has ever done that knows, it is a blinding pain, certain to provoke the most saintly of people to a swearing fit.  In my case, because of my son’s habit of repeating everything, I had replaced all of my good swear words with the innocuous phrase of “nasty words.”  It worked to express myself without having to worry about him repeating it.

Or so I thought.

There we are at the grocery store, my deceptively angelic looking three year old sitting in the seat, smiling at each and every old lady in the store.  It was his bait to get them to come nearer…and they did.  And then he would drop the bombshell in that voice that toddlers have that carries for ten city blocks despite traffic and pouring rain.

“My mama says nasty words!”

My cheeks flamed, but the humiliation would continue, because nothing I said could put a stop to his game.  He told every single little old lady in the store that his mama said nasty words, leaving out the rest of the story and without explaining that it was literally the phrase “nasty words.”  Nothing I said could tame the scandalized looks I received, and I may as well as had a scarlet “nasty word sayer” embroidered on my shirt.  I hurried through the check out, while he informed the bag boy, the clerk, the women in the line behind me, and the store manager that his mama said nasty words.  There wasn’t a sympathetic glint in an eye anywhere, I was a bad mother who said nasty words where her toddler heard.

Like I said, it’s a real good thing that kids that age are very, very cute and we’re really attached to them.  I was mortified, and trying to explain only made the situation worse.  There was no quick escape, and the floor refused to open up and swallow me either.

But you know what?

Time does change your perspective on things.  Twenty years later, it’s a funny memory.  I can still hear his voice as he announced, over and over, “My mama says nasty words.”  He was  so proud of his announcement, and utterly unaware of what they thought he was saying.

 

Pay it forward?

The past few months have been really tough for Greg and I.  We’ve been struggling, barely keeping things together.  Sometimes, it would be very easy to get very depressed about it all.  But then, I stepped back and thought about what was going on.

It’s not that we have failed, but rather I see it as a lesson we needed to learn.  Maybe me more than Greg, to be honest.  It’s a lesson in humility.  I was arrogant and reluctant to let people help me, even after becoming disabled.  I kept on insisting I could do it on my own, even when it was becoming blatantly obvious that that was not a true statement.  Still, I refused to admit defeat and give in, accepting help.  It was hard to even ask Greg to help me when I couldn’t get dressed or undressed.  To let someone else see that I was struggling was unthinkable.

I thought I was better than that, it seems.  That’s a risky thing to do, because when you don’t learn your lessons, they just get harder.

That’s what the universe did to me, it seems.  I wasn’t getting the lesson with just the physical aspect, so they delivered a secondary version.  It’s like those Ladies of Fate looked down at me and frowned, saying she didn’t get it the first time, let’s hit her in the pocketbook this time!

And then they cackled.

Okay, so I have a wild imagination.  Even so, I am convinced that they did in fact cackle.

So the financial woes hit, and as we navigated those rapids on the river of life, apparently, I wasn’t learning fast enough to suit them.  So then, Greg has his heart attack.  While he could have died, he didn’t, for which we’re both very thankful.  But it scared me and scared me good, as well as put him in the hospital for a week, leaving me to cope on my own.

It was like watching a house of cards when a stiff breeze struck them.  It all began to fall apart for me.  Greg has no idea how fragile my world suddenly became–he missed those melt downs.  I had no idea how I would cope, with anything.  The stress was killing me.  The fear was paralyzing me.  All I had was a fragile thread of hope binding us to manage to get through this somehow.

And people helped me.  Some of it was financial, some of it was emotional, and some of it was very intangible.  Even the rude people who upset me and made me angry actually were helping me, because then I had at least anger to help keep a stiff spine and keep on going.  When Greg got out, we managed to find more help to get over those first weeks as we tried to figure out how on earth we were going to get by.  Family helped too.  It seemed to be strings of minor miracles coming together, creating a ladder that looks like we might actually survive it all after all.

And I learned.  At some point in our lives, we all need help.  This is important because if we fail to accept those times, we’re also depriving someone else of their own lesson.

Because at some point in our lives, we need to help others.  It might be a small thing, it might be a bigger thing, it might even be a huge thing.  It doesn’t matter what the size is, the whole point is that by helping someone else, we’re learning how to be a little less selfish and a little more giving.  Like the Grinch…our hearts can grow a size larger.

And then, at some other point in our lives, it’s time to pay that debt and pay it forward.  I’d already been in that position.  Long ago, on several occasions, total strangers helped me, for no reason at all.  I hadn’t asked for it, even though I really desperately needed help.  I did manage to accept it graciously and thankfully.  Since I don’t even know who they were, there is no possibility of ever paying them back for that help.

Or is there?

To me, it was a case of paying it forward.  Random acts of kindness to others doesn’t hurt.  It doesn’t even cost a lot usually.  It might take a bit of extra time, a bit of extra attention, a dash of true consideration…but that’s a small price to pay really.

Because you never know when you will be suddenly thrust into walking in their shoes for a day or longer.  You never know what life is going to dish out to you, and suddenly leave you in a position of desperation and loss of hope.

I know most people get on the bandwagon for donating time and money around the holidays.  That’s really nice.  The fact is, there are people in desperate situations every single day of the year.  Get up, go and do something.  It’s like making a deposit in  your karmic bank account–and you never know when you’ll need to make a withdrawal.  Finding a cause is great, but it doesn’t have to be something that well defined.  Maybe its giving a ride to a neighbor, buying a package of diapers for a young family, a box of groceries for an elderly person, or a donation to the local food bank.  Even something as simple as carrying in a trash can for an aging neighbor might do more than spare them the effort–it might restore their faith in humanity and make them feel like someone cares.

Make a difference, somehow, to someone.  Make someone’s day a little brighter, not so that they will like you or do something for you, but just to see them smile.  You might be really surprised at the side effects that it will have on  you.

The Facebook Bubble

There are rumors flying that the Facebook bubble is about to burst, that it has exceeded its own growth potential, resulting in a speedy demise.

Maybe it has, and maybe it hasn’t.  I’m not an expert, but…I am smart enough to learn from the past.  That’s what history is for, isn’t it?

We have had a lot of bubbles related to the internet.  The dot com bubble burst some time ago.  MySpace, once the king of social networking, is pretty much history.  I have an account, but I have logged into it about twice in the last three years.  Even then, it was just to connect with someone who hadn’t moved on to Facebook, not because I cared about my own account.  I didn’t like it much, and I found it awkward and with an excessively youthful nature.  Facebook suited me better, with a more run of the mill air about it as Every Man and Every Woman took to it like ducks to water.  Now, I actually know some people who think the internet IS Facebook, never leaving its comforting pages to wander unfettered through the digital universe we have collectively created.

At the same time, people aren’t going to magically abandon Facebook unless something better comes along.  Google presented us with Google Plus, then disappointed many users as it adopted more and more features that resembled those of Facebook.  We hadn’t flocked to it for a Facebook replacement, we had flocked there to find something DIFFERENT.  Somehow, I think it may have failed to deliver what we were craving, although it does have some of the features people seek.

So what do people want?

That is the million dollar question really.  In general, among the people I have approached , they want some specific things:

Ability to connect with others with similar ideas/interests.

Ability to control how much information is made public.

Ability to integrate and yet separate their private and public personas.  (Yes, they are different!  We all have our pro side, and then we have the side who gets depressed, eats a quart of ice cream, a whole bag of chips, and vegs on the sofa for an entire weekend in their pajamas…featuring My Little Pony on the bodice.  Do we really want our co-worker and clients s to see our angst?)

The ability to share things, especially cute kittens and political  memes.  Oh, and their opinions, of course.  Often.  Without.  Thinking.

The real kicker is that it is hard to keep public and private separate, and yet it is very important.  More and more companies want to take a look at who you are on Facebook before..and after….hiring you.  There have been cases where they wanted the passwords as well, even before hiring you.  (Not sure how legal that really is, and I would object strongly, but desperation in this job market probably inspired many applicants to just give in.)  Law enforcement is looking harder at this information as well, and many people suspect that the government spies on us all continually through social media.  If so, I hope they enjoy the recipes and cute animal pictures  that litter my posts.  Oh, and MouseHunt, the one game that I keep on playing.

So, that big mysterious agency, which is called Big Undercover Liberty Limiting Special Host of Investigating Technicians (BULLSHIT for short) is watching our every tweet and post, whether its on Google Plus, Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, or Secret Text Updating Data Inside Technology (aka STUPID) status update in search of covert, illegal, or terrorist activities.  That’s a big job, and it’s an important one.  After all, not even the super snooping capabilities of the latest CARNIVORE government spyware program can detect and analyze the language used inside of a cute kitten meme.  They have even found it necessary to put undercover agents into the dating sites in search of terrorists and anarchists who are using these sites to find women to marry and then obtain legal status to continue their illegal activities in the United States.

Sure they are.

The US is notorious, world wide, for their strong stance against illegal entry compared to other countries.

And I have a couple of bridges for sale, one on each coast of the USA, been in the family for a long time…

Go try sneaking into Mexico, China, North Korea, or heck, even sneak into Iraq while  you are at it.  After you have your “vacation” they’ll send you home, free of charge, right?

Wrong.

But that’s okay, we’re okay with that.  Just like we’re okay with the way Facebook is going.  Never mind that we’re already suspicious of their marketing techniques and desires to use our names and images to promote other goods and services.  We’ll happily go along with it, until the rats all find another ship to jump to.  All we have to do is figure out which ship will be the one they choose, so we’re riding along with our own cheese store, right?

At least  we know what it won’t be.  It won’t be Yahoo, MSN, AOL, MySpace, or G+.  Will it simply fracture apart, as people opt to leave the ultra populated space for smaller, more intimate and more user-responsive versions of social media?

Actually, I think that’s what I would place my bet on.  As shifts occur in how we interact, obtain our information and entertainment, how we shop, and where we work, we’re going to see that continual evolution.  Chat programs, while now usually subscription based, are becoming increasingly popular, and often oriented to topic or demographic data oriented.  We want our information and written entertainment also delivered digitally, and that creates another mode of connection.

That makes me wonder.  What if Amazon introduced a social media program, one that allowed people to discuss types of products, literary works by genre, etc.?  Would we see the rise of that type of social media connection, one provided by the seller of goods as a way to encourage people to continue shopping via their website rather than to venture into the “real world” with all of its inconveniences, expenses and dangers?

Or maybe we’ll see the right wing control factor coming into play, and instead of corporations operating the social media, it will become a government sponsored, controlled, and monitored environment.  We’ll all be tagged with our personal data, preventing any more mysterious encounters, as well as encounters of the really dangerous sort that we’ve all heard about.

The ancient Chinese may have regarded “May you live in interesting times” as a curse, but it’s our mantra.  We do live in interesting times, and who knows how they’ll be regarded in the future.  Are we going to be immortalized in unrealistic works of fiction that equate this era to the Wild Wild West that really never was what the movies portray it as?

That could be too.  All I know is that we’re going to see changes, some from evolution, others from reactionary governments.  We’ll see how our data is delivered and censored change, as well as who delivers what will change.  The wild and utterly independent voices of today’s internet radio may be silenced in the coming years, as expenses continue to rise as economies continue to struggle.  We don’t know.

But, it will definitely be interesting to watch and find out, won’t it?

 

Almost there…

Today is the last day of the year for me.

No, it’s not some new calendar that I’m advocating.  It’s my own personal calendar.  Tomorrow is my birthday, which makes today the last day that I am this age.  I’ll never be this age again.

While it’s easy to beat yourself up as you critically examine your past year, sometimes, it’s a good thing to look back on what exactly you did accomplish that was good.  So, here are my highlights for the year, the things that made me feel the best about accomplishing.

1. I published my first novel.  This may seem silly, it isn’t like I’ve hit anybody’s best seller list, but…for me it IS a big deal.  I’m proud of that accomplishment, I’m proud that I conquered the fear that releasing it into the public was accompanied by.  (If you want to take a look at it and maybe even buy it…go to http://bit.ly/timeofchaos)
2. I have been able to promote my “fan” page as an author and radio personality.  This too may seem like such a little thing, but self promotion is something that comes very, very hard to me.  I guess it goes all the way back to when I was a little girl and told “nice young ladies do not brag”.  I’m not really bragging, and I’m far from what I’d call “nice”, but any form of self-promotion is a big bite to chew for me.  I have been promoting it like crazy this week, with a goal of 100 “likes” on Facebook by tomorrow.  I’m a long ways from achieving it, so…if you want to help me out, go to the page right here and then click “like” at the top of the page.
3. Greg and I bought a house.  A very small, very old, and very cheap house that very much needs a lot of work and updating, but it is ours anyhow!  We love it, we’re happy here, and while our lives aren’t fairy-tale perfect, that’s okay too.
4. I’m learning how to ask for help.  It’s not easy, and the lesson has been agonizing, but I’m learning to let go of my own arrogance and accept help gracefully (or sort of gracefully anyhow)  We have been confronted with physical and financial issues that have left us spinning and unable to cope.
5. I’ve learned about the friends and family that I can count on when our entire world seems to be situated on shifting sands.  I hope I never, ever take them for granted.
6. I’ve learned to be very thankful for my small slice of serenity and contentment.  It’s not always easy, but that’s okay too.  It’s part of my lesson.
7. I’m learning to let go.  That too may sound silly and small, but I want to hold all that I remember and love close to me…forever.  Sometimes, by letting go, we see something even more glorious and amazing.  By hanging on, we are faced with chaos and clutter armed only with a memory.

That’s the good stuff, I suppose.  The highlights anyhow are listed.  I’m thankful for a lot of stuff, and probably the memories that stand out the clearest are just two.

• Greg telling me he loved me after his heart attack and angioplasty to put in stents.
• Our granddaughter’s face when she sees us arrive.  She lights up the universe with her smile.

So, like my Facebook author’s page, then go home and tell someone you love how much they mean to you.  You never know, you might hit that short list of highlights of the year with such a simple act, because after all, all we have at the end is the love.  The rest…doesn’t matter one bit.

Most people are liars?

How often do you hear someone ask you “How are you?”

What do you say?  Do you honestly answer them or just respond with the expected “fine” response?  Better yet, do they really care at all about how things are going for you or how you are feeling?

I don’t think they do.  They don’t want to hear about your problems or worries, challenges or defeats.  They MIGHT (and that’s still up for debate) want to hear about some spectacular triumph, but definitely, they don’t want to hear your honest reply about your woes or defeats.

The same thing goes when something horrible happens, people say “Oh, be sure and let me know if there is anything I can do for you!” or ask “Can I help?” While some of the offers are genuine and heartfelt, the vast majority are empty words.

So why is this kind of lying socially acceptable if not expected?  Why do they go through the lip service when there is no intentions on even listening to the response, let alone taking any kind of action?  What motivates them?

I”m not sure.  I avoid making promises that I can’t keep, and when the offers of help are made, it’s genuine, and the one that receives the offer usually knows me well enough to know what I can, or can’t, do to help them, and is expected to realize those limitations.  Is that true of family, acquaintances, etc. when they make these offers too?  Are they expecting us to realize that it is merely lip service?

How many times have you gone out of your way for someone, whether it’s to help when tragedy has struck (from car break down to something more profound) or to merely be an extra set of arms when they are moving, only to have those same friends/family members ignore your own requests for similar help later?  How many times have you had someone who has given help, whether or not you had previously assisted them, only to have them use it like a dangling guillotine over your head for eternity afterwards?

It’s easy to be generous, and then after repeatedly being left standing alongside a dark road in the rain, figuratively speaking, to become cynical and unwilling to help others. It’s that old “once bitten, twice shy” routine.  We learn by their later rejection that our efforts to assist will not be reciprocated.  It happens too often too, whether from our so-called friends or less-than-loyal family members.  Bitterness, however, does not improve your own  emotional state, nor will it improve your “karmic bank balance.”  It’s just plain not good for us.

When it happens, do we need to forget it ever happened and then the next time they ask for help, go ahead and offer it freely, knowing there is no hope of “return on investment” in the relationship?

Probably not.  Sometimes, we try to teach by example.  With those people who are only concerned about what they are getting, versus what they are giving, they aren’t going to ever get the message or lesson we are trying to share.  So should we do it at all?

Help should be freely given, without expectation of anything in return, and done with a cheerful heart.

That’s something my mother has tried to teach me.  I’m not sure I’ve totally got the lesson down pat, but…it does go a long ways towards maintaining my own contentment.  It’s still hard to accept the rejection of a plea for help, and I’ll admit–that hurt doesn’t magically disappear, but it also won’t kill me.  I’m a lot tougher than that.

The whole deal of helping others is sort of the idea behind the concept of paying it forward.  I’ve had total strangers freely offer me badly needed help, on the spot.  I often didn’t know their names and never found out.  There is no way to repay those people for the kindness they showed by putting their backs into making a bad situation better.  Therefore, by my own rules, the only way to repay those people’s kindness is by paying it forward, and random acts of kindness to strangers is one way to do that.

Okay, I’m not wealthy, and I can’t do amazing things.  Sometimes though, it is the little things that make the difference to someone.  Like giving a loaf of bread to a homeless guy, or a few dollars to someone who’s in a jam and will never pay it back.  Maybe it’s used clothing donated to someone, just because they needed something more.  Maybe it’s a ride to a guy with a flat tire and no spare, or a quart of oil to someone at a rest area.  It might be donating food or my labor to a church or organization to prepare a holiday meal for those who may not have one otherwise, whether due to living alone or lack of funds to buy the food.  It might be herding stranded travelers to an impromptu shelter at a local building.  It doesn’t matter–as long as it is help that I give freely.

You have to care.  Even if its a plate of cookies to your neighbors for Christmas, you have to put effort into it.  The gift of a smile to a stranger might be the only thing they are given all day, so why not make it yours?

Don’t promise what you won’t give.  Do more than what you think is “necessary” to make your world a better place.  If every single one of us donated just 24 hours in a year to making our communities better, we’d all be living in a world that looked a lot more like paradise.

Stop being so self-centered and selfish.

The truth is, he who dies with the most toys won’t win a damned thing.  So, what are those “toys” doing for you?  Is your fancy McMansion a happy home, filled with laughter and love?

Think about your own life.  All too often, we will look back and realize that our happiest times were often the times we thought were the “tough” times, when money and material goods were nearly non-existent and we were able to experience life with family and friends without worrying about our wallets or our toys.

Love life as it is.   Pay it forward.  Share your “toys” with others.  Life is an amazing thing when we’re no longer concerned about whether we’re going to be “wasting” our time and effort helping others.  Maybe it will make the difference to them, and maybe it won’t…but in the meantime, it will make a world of difference in the person you are now, as well as in the future.

 

The heart attack

I have not been posting as often as usual.  I’ve been a bit busy, which sounds like a very trite excuse.  For those who don’t follow me via my radio program or Facebook, I have decided that I had best explain myself.

A couple of weeks ago, my husband had a massive heart attack.  We did everything wrong, starting with not recognizing it as a heart attack and not seeking immediate medical attention.  When we did seek medical attention, we never did get a clear answer on whether it was another one or the aftermath of the first that caused Greg to become unable to breathe easily, but that was the symptom that sent us to the local ER.

Fortunately for us, especially Greg, he survived, despite our mistakes.  The bad part is that the longer it takes to get medical attention, the worse the damages to the heart are.  He had complications, and despite angioplasty and stents being put into place, his heart wasn’t going to magically repair itself.  He had a very large blood clot in the apex of his heart where the blood had pooled when the artery was clogged and the flow of blood stopped.  That required a week of heparin drip, as well as starting him on a blood thinner to prepare him for release.

What didn’t get prepared was our minds.  Greg wasn’t in a high risk group for a heart attack, and we weren’t prepared for the changes that it has brought to our lives.  I am already disabled and limited in what I can manage physically.  Compared to Greg now, I’m the able one.  I had to figure out how to do things that he had done before, somehow. I still haven’t gotten the trash cans out for our trash pickup.  That’s for tomorrow night!

Then, there were the dietary changes.  We already ate mostly low sodium meals, and we did monitor fat content, but suddenly, all of that became more critical.  In addition, I soon learned that our vegetables were all “high” for Vitamin K, and as a result, needed to be restricted as much as the sodium or fat content.  In fact, it was perhaps more critical for the short term because it directly and immediately  interferes with the blood thinner.  Now, grocery shopping was a huge undertaking, as was meal preparation.  I’m a very skilled cook, but this was a new facet and I found myself seeking out recipes online that would serve as starting points to create the foods that we could enjoy eating.

Greg isn’t “out of the woods” as the saying goes.  He’s still adapting, and there are concerns about his physical well being.  Even more important, is the non-physical aspects of his recovery.  He seems to have lost the optimism that always was his trademark.  His temper is often on a hair trigger, and inanimate objects seem unusually capable of causing a melt down.  His chivalry is assaulted daily, as I struggle to do things like carry in groceries, laundry, or whatever physical task I’m tackling.  I have to argue with him, and it isn’t a quick argument, since I have to break it down into smaller steps, usually requiring many trips rather than one or two.

It isn’t possible for him to reasonably help with daily routine activities.  He’s exhausted by the simple things, like walking from the house to the car.  He doesn’t want to go anywhere, perhaps because of the exhaustion that the trip would result in.  Last week, we had a relatively simple appointment to keep, which required an extensive wait in a reception area.  We followed it with a short stop at a small grocery store.  The result was he was so exhausted that his speech was slurred and he staggered as he walked from the car to the house.  It’s as though his brain starts shutting down too, and he then becomes quite childlike at that time.

For those who know Greg, that’s a shocking change in personality.  As his wife, I find it more than merely shocking, it’s horrifying.

I had talked to his cardiologists assistant last week about his medications and expressed some concerns about his physical well being, particularly the level of exhaustion that was resulting from even below the approved level of activity.  (His restrictions were to walk around the house, short store trips, and to lift nothing over 25 lbs.)  We haven’t tested his lifting ability–it’s pointless when the house walking exhausts him.  Sitting in his chair at his desk exhausts him, and where he used to work for hours there, now, he is forced to retreat to bed, where he can recline and use his laptop.  The assistant said it could be adjusting to the medications, but to continue monitoring his activities and responses.

Some things, I know are exhausting.  Showers and baths, once accomplished so easily, are always difficult when confronted with physical disabilities.  In my own case, I know that I can’t jump out of bed, into the shower, and then run off to a long day of driving, shopping, and appointments.  Once I considered that normal, even desirable.  Now, I’d be in trouble at the jumping out of bed portion.

Since I had my accident, I had not driven much, and avoided distances of any kind, usually just driving locally if I was “going solo.”  Now, I don’t feel Greg is up to driving himself, because the exhaustion is as hazardous as being impaired by medications.  I know which medications I use that cause me to be less attentive than usual, and on the days when I drive, I don’t take them.  Granted, this results in some discomfort, and I do have alternatives to help take that discomfort down a notch, such as a very expensive topical NSAID my doctor prescribes for me to use.  I do the driving, and the used SUV we bought last year has features I need to make driving safer and easier for me, such as most of the controls in the steering wheel, good visibility, easy access in and out, and easy to operate doors.  I’m very glad that I annoyed the car salesman that day with my insistence that I tried every single door, got into the back seat, laid down the back seat, put it back up, tried the hatch several times, and then did a test drive to check the visibility and ease of operation.  I was having a hard time with our wheezy old mini-van, with everything from visibility to getting into it, and found the back doors and hatch almost impossible to manage.  While we still have the van, it hasn’t been anywhere in a while, and I have no intentions of trying to drive it now.  It’s sort of a “back up plan” more than a used vehicle now, especially with Greg out of commission.

Our lives have changed.  I’m not going to say for the worse, because change doesn’t always come down to good or bad, and trying to decide that while you are still adjusting is just not the brightest idea.  We’re having to learn how to ask for help.  Nobody likes to do that, especially when they have a lifetime of self-sufficiency behind them.  Now, we’re struggling with everything from financial difficulties to difficulties doing yard work, house work, and repairs on the house.

Usually, when our son in law and daughter come to visit, we’re at a loss for what to keep him busy–he’s somewhat hyper and becomes bored if we don’t have a project to complete.  Now, I have a list of things for the next visit, ranging from replacing a light fixture to some digging and trimming I need completed outside.  The real trick will be keeping Greg from trying to help, something that is apt to result in disaster right now.

I have to take a more active interest in everything from his medications to his activity levels now.  We had always had a somewhat independent view of each other, supporting each other but not interfering.  Now, I have to interfere and nag, and the nagging is something I really don’t like having to do.  I’m going to also have to take a more pushy attitude towards interacting with the doctors, including calling tomorrow to ask for an explanation for why he cannot do the walking he is supposed to be doing, and double checking the levels of his prescribed medication compared to that of what the assistant thought they were.

So yes, I have been busy.  I’ve also been scared and worried.  I’ve been concerned, and I’ve gone through every other emotion that a person can experience.  We’ve had to change everything from dreams  to hopes to our present reality from what it had been even a month ago.  We’re still adjusting.  At the same time, we’re still trying to keep doing the things we had always liked and enjoyed.

Greg missed one radio show (he hosts Voice of the People on Saturdays at 6 pm Central)  while he was in the hospital.  The first show after his release was the first Saturday he was home.  He intends to keep doing them too.  Yes, it did leave him exhausted.  Even so, I had beat him on exhaustion level, as I had planted 1 blueberry, 8 peppers, a rosemary plant and 2 tomatoes yesterday, as well as preparing two meals.  I’ll confess, after we ate dinner (after his show), I passed out trying to watch some program.  I  think it was something about ancient Alexandria.  I slept for two hours, and felt much better afterwards.  Of course, a late “nap” like this meant I had trouble going to bed, which then rippled out even further to a late start the next morning.

For now, its just a case of adapting to the things we can’t change.  It’s also a case of exploring the parameters of these new restrictions, and identifying permanent and temporary ones.  Maybe it is always a case of your point of perception.  I have decided that it isn’t so much a case of “can’ts” as it is a case of “how”?  It’s a new experience, and the things we learn can help expand our own world as well as be shared with others to help them escape things that can be so restrictive.

I love Greg, I want him to be as healthy as possible, I want him to live as long as possible, and I want to share the things that make us both happy with him.  We aren’t giving up dreaming, but we may adjust those dreams to deal with the people we are now and the ones we will become in the future.

Nobody enjoys lessons in humility, and perhaps that’s what we are now experiencing.

Turning back time

“Some people want to turn back their odometers, but not me.  I want everyone to know why I look like this, I traveled a long way, and some of the roads weren’t paved!”

I don’t know the author of that quote, but it appeared in my Facebook feed this morning.  I think it’s true.

Yeah, I look very little like the twenty-something I once was, and most days, I don’t even resemble the person I was even at 40-something.  That’s okay.  I even did one of those things that gauges our health and lifestyle to give us our true age.  It seems I’m going at ultra-high speed through life–I’m fifteen years older by their calculations than I really am.  Maybe that makes me a time traveler?  Or just high mileage?  More dirt roads than the average Joe or Jane?

I’m not perfect either.  The whole thing about our appearance, our age, and our life experience isn’t to end our lives looking as though we were never touched by our living it.  We cannot escape this life alive in our physical form.

I sure hope I don’t have to carry that worn out form as I continue my journey either!

I have had some wonderful experiences.  I’ve had some that plunged me to the depths of hell too.  I’ve felt betrayal, and I’ve felt immense gratitude.  Happiness, sadness, wonder, anger..I’ve tried all of the emotions on, more than once.  Some fit me better than others, I’ll admit.

I especially like contentment, happiness, and joy.  I wish they would hang around longer every time I get to try them out.

Another confession.  I don’t have a bucket list anymore.

I made one of those, back when I was young, angry, and optimistic.  I was eighteen.  It seems like a century ago now, and I’ve traveled a lot of miles.  I just discovered that I’ve done all of the things on that bucket list.  Now that doesn’t mean I’m done living.  There are plenty of things I still want to do, it’s just there is no more bucket list of them.

I still want to see the Atlantic.  I want to visit New England, and if I’m really lucky, it will be when I can see the changing leaves, to see if it’s any different from any other area’s changing of leaves as fall swallows up summer.  If I don’t make it then, well, the other three seasons  have appeal too.

I want to take my granddaughter on a road trip/camping trip, along with Greg too, of course.  I want to watch her experience the joy of slow travel, random stops, and brand new things.  I love seeing her face light up with pleasure, to be honest.  She is a little too young to enjoy it yet, but soon she’ll be old enough.  Nothing beats the joy of a child’s face as they discover something new.

I still want to see a moose, in the wild.  From an appropriate distance, of course.  I spent two weeks once in active pursuit of one.  I followed every local lead as to where they “always” could be found.  Never saw one.  I’m half convinced they are surely fictional, because I’ve never been able to prove their existence.

I’d like to try off shore fishing once.  I have a bit of a boat phobia, I’m afraid.  I’ve managed to conquer it, by and large, but…I still haven’t done that.  I’ll admit, I’m a bit afraid of it. What if I hate it, am miserable, and ruin the trip for my companions?

There are so many things I still want to do.  I’m not done.  I’m not too old and worn out by a long shot.

Today, the glow I felt from my novel being released on Kindle has faded.  Now, that little green guy is up on my shoulder having a field day with feeding my self-doubts.  The little green guy is sure everyone is going to hate it, and that I’m going to be tarred and feathered for writing it.

I tried telling him that tar and feathers are out of  style, forgotten like hoop skirts and corsets, but he isn’t buying it.

That little green guy, I call him Fear, sits on my shoulder and whispers in my ear all of the time.  He’s been there my whole life.  When I was younger, I listened to him more.  I was often afraid to try things that were too far from the  norm or that weren’t socially acceptable.  Maybe that’s part of being  young, that Fear can control you more.  As I’ve gotten older, he’s had less influence.  Maybe because I have faced my worst fear, and realized that I could survive even that.  Since that Worst Fear was conquered, after a fashion, how much can just plain little green guy  named Fear really influence me?  Now he’s like a cranky old friend, whispering into my ear, but half the time I just laugh at him and go on doing what I wanted to do.  Sometimes, his warnings make sense, and that’s when I should pay attention.  Other times, he’s just afraid of things becoming uncomfortable for him.

Yes, I talk to him sometimes.  Does that make me crazy?  Heck, compared to the Ladies of Fate, the little green guy named Fear riding on my shoulder is mild stuff.  Even HE is afraid of what the Ladies of Fate can do.  Surely, I’m not really crazy…everybody needs a few imaginary friends traveling through life with them, don’t they?  They provide me with entertainment, advice, trials and tribulations, and once in a while, a real thrill.

But, I don’t want to turn back time.  I’ve had a really interesting life so far, and I’m anticipating more.  Who’d want to risk ruining that?

 

Impending news…

Good news is always a good thing, isn’t it?

For the last year or so, I’ve used Kindle for Android and Kindle for PC.  I like e-books.  They are good for the environment, as well as presenting a lot of opportunity for new authors and changing the dynamics of authors and publishing houses and the reader.  For the first time, between on demand publishing and e-books, we can read books that may not have ever been published or widely distributed before, on topics that we never were able to find before.

I’ll admit, it does present some problems.  I’ve seen some pretty awful e-books.  We all have.  At the same time, we’ve all encountered printed material that was an utter waste (at least in our minds) of the paper they were printed on.  I’ve seen a lot of books that I hated, and I’ve read a lot that I truly enjoyed.  I also have an incredible number of books in our house, and I look at other people’s houses and if there is no bookshelf, I am horrified.

How do people exist without books in their lives?

At the same time, it’s getting more and more expensive, both in terms of our money and the environment, to print books and buy them.  We then spend even more money and “environmental credits” to get the wood for our bookshelves, which also fill up our walls.  Even using the local library for much of my reading material, I still have a lot of books.  The other day, I was discussing with my mother, who has a Kindle Touch, about our Kindle libraries.  I was a bit surprised to discover that I now had over 1600 books in my Kindle library.

Do you realize how much room 1600 books would take in terms of shelving?

Granted, some of these books are pretty short, maybe 30 pages, and would often qualify as short stories or even articles in the printed world.  Even so, most of them are things that I regard as interesting and worth keeping in my e-library.  Few of them are books that I regard as utter wastes of electronic space, although there are a few.  I’ve also rediscovered the wonder of the classics, and exploring some of the ones I’d read only as a result of coercion from my English teacher as a teenager.  They are much more interesting as an adult, I’ll confess.  Even better, if I start reading one and it’s boring me…with the click of the mouse, I’ve exchanged it for another.

But I am rambling now.  I almost forgot about what my big news really was.

I have decided to publish my first official foray into the fiction world as an author myself on Kindle.  It’s not because I couldn’t get it published in a traditional publishing house–I never submitted it to any of them.  It’s been finished, edited, and waiting for over a year.  The sequel is well underway already, too.  I just didn’t submit it, even though I know how to do just such a thing, and even know several publishing houses that would consider it.

I’m publishing it via Kindle because it’s a format that I believe in.  The cover is being designed now, and it’s being proof read by yet another person as a final step.  Some paperwork has to be filed, but I’m anticipating it being officially released very soon.  The e-book publishing leaves the author with the rights to the book, as well as the lion’s share of the royalties, which is as it should be, don’t you think?  Instead of the price being paid going to the printer and the publishing house before the writer gets their share, the vendor gets a much smaller share and the writer gets a fair share.

It does leave the author with some work.  There is no promotion besides what the author is willing and able to do.  Maybe I have an advantage over many people, as there is the audience that is familiar with me already via my radio program, website, and blogs.  Maybe they’ll also tell other people to take a look at the book too.  I hope so.

So, keep your fingers crossed for me and my fledgling book.  Go get Kindle for your Android and your PC too, if you don’t already have it.  If you have a Kindle, you are one step ahead.  I’ll also announce when my “baby” is officially on the market.  In the meantime, remember…the title will be The Survivors: The Time of Chaos.  It’s a paranormal thriller.  After all, how could I write anything that didn’t have a paranormal element to it, unless it was a technical manual.

So far though, no one has asked me to write one of those.  I haven’t written one since I wrote a how-to manual for police dispatchers using the NCIC system, way back when I was a police dispatcher in another lifetime.

Bet you didn’t know I’d done that either, did you?

Sears, housing, and our economy

Sears & Roebuck…remember them?  If you do, you are probably in the same age group as me.

I’m no huge historian of Sears trivia, but when I was a kid, we had two fat catalogs that were staples in our house.  The Sears catalog and the “Monkey Wards” (Montgomery Wards) catalog.  At Christmas time, as children, we’d pour through the Christmas catalog, wishing and dreaming.

I think it was the same for my mother’s generation, and probably her mother’s as well.  Those catalogs had everything from underwear to roller skates and appliances in them.  I remember hearing stories from days gone by how the black & white pages were the best during the recycling process.  That’s when they became toilet paper in the outhouse, and I have to admit…I’m not sorry to have missed THOSE days.

I do know that long before I was born, Sears used to sell houses too.  Not like a real estate agent, but rather as kits that the proud new owner could assemble himself.  The kits came complete with plans and all of the lumber, siding, nails, windows, floors, etc.  They had a number of plans available, and once ordered, the complete house kit would be shipped to the nearest railroad station, where the new owner would pick it up in their wagon and bring home to assemble.  I guess it would be considered the ancestor of what is today regarded as “pre-fab”, manufactured, or modular housing.

Wouldn’t it be cool if such a thing was still available?  The novelty of having your house arrive in some crates, with pre-cut lumber and all of the other bits you needed to finish your house, right down to the paint?  Oh, and that it was made to conform to building codes too.

Yeah, dream on, right?

Still, with the new leaning towards smaller-is-better in terms of actual footprints, I think it’s an idea that could do with some revisiting.  The kits, built to UBC’s standards, would have a set of plans that you purchased prior to purchasing the house kit itself, to allow  you to get your permit to erect it.  Then, when you had your approval for the house to be built on your site, the kit would arrive.  Maybe there would be pre-assembled panels that bolted together, maybe it would be mostly cut-to-length lumber and other parts, but it could be done.  The directions would include which points you stop for the various inspections along the way too.  It could be done, I’m certain of it.

But Sears doesn’t sell house kits anymore.  I’m not sure if they even have a catalog anymore.  I don’t bother shopping there anymore either, and it seems that a lot of America has quit shopping there.  Have you stopped to think of why that has happened?

Even when my kids were young, Sears still did the catalog thing.  Sure, you could go into the local store and there were some things in stock to buy, but most of what I bought was ordered out of the catalog.  It arrived in the store for pickup a week or two after I ordered it.  I’d go in, pay cash for my order, and take the treasured item home with me. I ordered a number of things from Sears back then, from my boots for work to my daughter’s canopy bed.  It was easy, economical, and accessible.

Then, they closed down those Mom & Pop franchises, after they nationalized or whatever their repair process too.

Remember how reliable the Sears repair people used to be?  You called, you got a repairman out in a day or two at the latest.  Then, they did their standardizing thing, and the repairman wasn’t local and you had to call some distant call center to get a repairman, who wasn’t coming to fix that broken washer/refrigerator/dryer/whatever for at least a week.  In addition, try explaining where you are located when you live in a remote rural area to someone who has never visited your state.

They told me my address didn’t exist.  Repeatedly.

Then, when I finally DID get a repairman…he was late, rude, and generally made me very uncomfortable with being alone in the house with him.  That was the last Sears appliance I ever bought.  Catalog shopping and appliances were out with Sears, and with the nearest store suddenly over an hour away, in a much larger town, they now were competing solely with other department stores in the mall, in terms of availability, location, and prices.

For me, they didn’t make the cut.  Other department stores seemed to offer more, with more courteous service, for the same or less in terms of dollars.  I already disliked Sears, and they weren’t doing anything to win me back.

As the years went by, there were fewer and fewer reasons to go to Sears.   Then, the internet exploded onto the scene, and suddenly, catalog shopping was back, with new interactive online versions.  Payment was instant, shipping was faster, and companies could let us know within minutes if an item was in stock or not.  Who needed Sears anymore?

Well, it seems that Sears is reaping the benefits of their actions of the past.  Crappy customer service, shoddy imported goods, poor repair service habits, and boom…about all they had going for their company was the credit card.  With the economic bust we’ve had, credit wasn’t a very good business all of a sudden, as more and more people began defaulting on credit lines they could no longer afford.  Sears is in trouble, and now they are bringing in a new CEO.

Will it work?

I am not a financial expert, but I am a very experienced consumer.  Unless Sears begins to give the customer a reason to continue shopping with them, there won’t be much for repeat business.   Crappy customer service and shoddy imported goods are a dime a dozen these days–it’s everywhere.  America is about up to its gills in outsourced customer service and manufacturing too.

If Sears wants to survive, let alone thrive, in the modern times, maybe it better think about covering the basics and standing out from the crowd.  Sure, it’s cheaper to hire a call center in some foreign country, just like it is to have your goods manufactured in countries that have lower pay rates and fewer safety regulations to protect the workers, but that doesn’t mean that cheaper is better.

So what are the basics?  It starts with  your employees, that’s the ones that do customer service.  It’s the ones that make the difference in the stores and on the phone and online too.  Then, it’s what you are selling.  America wants decent goods.  It really does help if they are actually made in America.

What works for Sears is what made Mom & Pop stores across America thrive before the advent of cheap imported goods and massive discount corporations.  We’re struggling, we’re uncertain, and we want security and familiarity.  I’d rather go buy a vacuum cleaner from my neighbor than to go to a store where there are thousands of them lined up in a row and I may as well be receiving assistance from a robot as I make my choice.  I want someone who can answer my questions.  I want a company that promises and delivers service, whether it is during the purchase or when I need the item repaired.  I want to be treated fairly.

I am American.  I am a consumer.  I am their customer.

I would like to be treated with courtesy and respect.  Wouldn’t you?

I think it is long past time for these struggling stores and chains to begin recognizing that basic desire in their prospective and current customers.  There is a reason why a few companies are surviving and thriving, while others are not.  It’s not just about the lowest bottom line, despite the fact that most of us have a lot less to spend than we used to.  It’s about being treated fairly and decently too.  Going shopping should not make us feel like we’re “girding our loins” for a battle.  We shouldn’t be made to feel inferior.  When we have a complaint about something, we shouldn’t ever have a store manager claim we are an “uneducated consumer”.  (I have actually had that happen with one big box electronic store–she called me to chew me out for giving the store a poor rating after a negative experience with an ignorant clerk and very limited stock in the item I was looking for.)

Wake up, corporations.  The natives are getting restless.

New Year’s Resolutions, 2013 Edition!

2012 was a year to remember for many of us.  Of course, I can’t remember a year that was in need of being forgotten, but that’s okay.  Last year, when it came time to make a New Year’s resolution or two, I only made one.

To eat chocolate every day.

Okay, I tried, and by and large, I succeeded.  Some days, I’d forget to have a bit of chocolate though.  While that resolution may have seemed indulgent and frivolous, it really wasn’t.  The chocolate was simply a reminder about taking time to BE indulgent and take care of myself.  I’m not perfect about remembering that, but it does come to mind more than it did before the year of chocolate.

So here we are, a year later, and it’s time for that resolution again.  The whole point of resolutions is to have a different one each year.  So…2013 cannot be another “Year of Chocolate”.  So what will 2013 be?

I think I’ll make 2013 the Year of Creation.

No, I’m not developing some psychosis where I think I’m God.  I’m not going to try to create the world or a new life form.  My plan is simply to create 52 things in the coming year, whether it is sewing a dress for my granddaughter or building a shelf or making Christmas ornaments.  It’s not a huge goal, in the “old days”, I often would create that many things in a mere couple of weeks.  I just have sort of forgotten that creative side the last decade or so.  It’s time to remember that side of me, so it’s the perfect resolution for this year.