Matriarch

Things I don't get by Matriarch:

I don't get why celebrities, rich people, anyone really, still gets caught drinking and driving. If you are Mel Gibson, that anti-semitic ranting moron, I get why you are a moron, I get that maybe you're an alcoholic, but why not just order a car service? What am I not getting here? Just admit, "I want to get stinking drunk, please, (fill in the blank with name of assistant), call someone to drive me home." He can certainly afford it. It would certainly be better than suffering the humiliation of the mug shot with your hair all sticking up and all the bad publicity. Not to mention that you could have killed someone on the road, hello!

The latest is Gary Collins driving his RV drunk. That is just wrong on so many levels. Poor Mary Ann. The shame of it all. Good thing she's a nice Southern gal and some things just aren't discussed in polite company.  

The other thing I don't get is why some people (you know who you are) have to blog about such personal stuff and then invite PEOPLE who KNOW you in the REAL world to read it. Okay, I understand that you have a need, an itch to scratch, so to speak. Certain proclivities you are just ACHING to talk about. Why on earth do you then have to invite me, who knows you from Cub Scouts or whatever, to read it? I don't need to know. I don't want to know. And now I am trying to rub my mind's eye to remove the huge mote your blog placed there. Thank God I have never met your husband, is what I am thinking. I'd have to blush. Come to think of it, I am blushing. Discretion, people. The phrase TMI was invented for you. If I don't know you and I come upon your blog it's different from actually knowing you. I don't have to subsequently run into you at the Shop Rite and have you ask me what I thought about your blog. And that's why I don't want to know about your toe fungus, your recent gyno infection or what you do with fruit roll ups in the privacy of your own home. You have been totally Jerry Springerized. It's not sharing if I don't want it.

The last thing I need, NEED, to rant about today is why celebrities ALWAYS wear bikinis on the beach. (Can you tell I've been indulging in the pop mags at the gym?) Some of you are quite lovely and that's what we like about you. Read thin. Others of you, are not, or are between pictures and have gone off the diet. Why do we need to see your cellulite or hanging pooch? Why not wear one of those nice suits from Lands End with the spandex in the tummy area? Or a sarong. More is not more. All it does is give fodder to the paparazzi with their telephoto lenses and make middle aged women like me feel more comfortable. And in my case, more grateful than ever for the burkini I'll be wearing this summer at the beach.  

Okay, I admit it. I now understand why my parents couldn't program their VCR back in 1984. I am ashamed to say it, but I really don't feel I have the brain cells to learn anything else. It's scary and makes me feel old. But everything is so danged new fangled. Buttons and icons to push, plugs to insert in odd places. I know how to turn on the laptop. I know how to sign on to ethernet at the library,I know how to send and receive texts on my phone, but after that, I am lost. In fact, if I am honest with myself, I will say that if I didn't have a teenager, I'd barely be able to put on the lights. (The old glass fuses would pose no problem, however.) See what I mean?

I don't want to give in and admit I'm a Luddite because I'm really not. Lazy, ignorant, untrained, yes to all that, but I do appreciate technology. It's just so much easier to have my kid load up my ipod than to learn how to do it myself.

Yes, it all comes back to haunt me. I laughed, LAUGHED at my poor parents as their VCR blinked 12:00,12:00, 12:00. I never thought there would be a time when technology would get away from me. Even though I was the girl who dropped out of the computer class in college because I couldn't possibly see any real life application for the darn things. Okay, so I was in beautiful Boston, missed the first class because of out of town friends and the lure of Faneuil Hall. It took me one hour and a very geeky computer lab guy complete with a pocket pencil protector, to help me even sign on. By then, I knew this class was not for me. Computer guy has probably retired to his own private island by now. And I am still trying to sign on to the technology thing. Sad, really.

But the most jarring realization is that my brain is no longer as supple as it was. (Get in line, Buddy. NOTHING is as supple as it once was.) I don't learn as quickly or as avidly as I once did. Hell, I don't even remember what I used to know. I looked at Mimi's algebra problem and drew a complete and utter blank. With equal amounts of chagrin and real annoyance, I'm thinking, "But I taught this to Sadie not that long ago and could still do it." Then, "I taught it once, can't you all just share the knowlege, dammit?" I have even taken to having Sadie proofread things I write because I can't remember simple grammar. And grammar was my thing, one of the only I was truly good at. Ahem, at which I was truly good. See what I mean?

Aches and pains mysteriously appearing and disappearing at will, loss of brain function. The end is near. Or not. Perhaps I will just sit here quietly until the fog lifts. It's a good thing my mother is not here to say,"I told you so." Maybe I'll just have the kids put a dvd on for me to watch.  

Tuesday was a wonderful culmination of dreams and hopes for our family. We are a political group. I married my husband, in fact, because the first time we went for coffee, he spoke so eloquently and interestingly on world affairs. And that vocabulary! Don't get me started. I knew from that evening in the Village over capuccino, that I would one day marry that man.

And now we have a passel of kids who were given exposure to newspapers, political discussions and current events with their Gerber peas and carrots. No small wonder then, that we all waited for the inauguration. I first spotted Barak Obama at the DNC in 2004 when he gave the keynote address. I knew then, that he was destined for greatness. I turned to Honey and said, "Okay, how soon can he run for president? He's it."

And now he is indeed  it. Leader for the United States, Leader of the Free World, Grand Poobah, the Great Kahuna. Wow. And he has inherited a pile of problems both internationally and nationally. It is a perilous time in the world and we are in the middle of an economic meltdown the like of which has not been seen in our lifetimes.

But the thing is, he can inspire people. Even people who didn't vote for him are willing to follow him because he is a leader. He has the indefinable specialness. Charisma. But more than that, President Obama is smart. He is a thinker. (Whoa. We haven't seen that in a while, have we?) The man not only reads books, he writes them. He is a scholar. He wants to build bridges with the world, not just bomb it. And he can accomplish so much not by doing it himself, but by inspiring each one of us to make it all happen.

I am a religious person and I have been praying fervently that God gives President Obama the guidance to make the right choices for our world because surely the things we do as a nation impact for good or evil what happens on the rest of the planet. I pray God protects him and his beautiful family. I pray that President Obama leads us into a brighter future using green technology that preserves the earth, leads us to creation of more good jobs, leads us out of our morass of selfishness and me-firstism, leads us to be the best we can be and to share our wealth with all God's creatures.

I don't know how any one person can live up to all the expectations put upon this man, but I pray God makes it possible, because now more than ever we need a great leader and President Obama may well be the one.  

As yesterday, January 15, was Martin Luther King's birthday, it seemed only fitting that I watch the iconic "I Have a Dream" speech with my children. I have heard and seen the speech before, of course, both as a young person as an adult. This time, however, I had a deeper, more profound reaction.

The speech is, of course, beautifully crafted. The way he uses the words of  "America the Beautiful" to draw every listener in and make us feel a part of it. The lyric turns of phrase like  "work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive"; and "we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream"; and "with this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood".

Dr. King was speaking about race relations in our nation at a time when the least of the egregious treatment of African Americans forced them to drink at separate fountains, and sit at the back of the bus,  before the Civil Rights Bill was passed. I imagine what Dr. King would say today on the eve of the inauguration of our first African American president. We have so far to go, but thank God, we have come a long way from Alabama in 1963. Forty-five years have seen many improvements in race relations and conditions for people of color. White and black children do hold hands and play together, in some places, anyway. Even though we have much left to do to make his dream a reality, we have much about which to rejoice.

The other thought I had as I watched the speech, was that while so many aspects of his dream have come to fruition in my lifetime,  I can't help but think about the other places in the world where fear, racism, hatred, oppression and cruelty continue to flourish. Will any of those situations be alleviated in my lifetime? Or my children's? Will child soldiers in places like Rwanda, Chad and Philipines become a thing of the past? Will child labor in Pakistan and China be eliminated? When will women no longer be sold into slavery? Will the Palestinians be free to live in their land, unmolested and unimpeded by others? When will the richest us offer a hand up to the most impoverished among us? 

If only we could "lift our [world] from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood." If only, indeed. In the meantime, I will try very hard to heed Dr. King's admonition not to "wallow in the valley of despair".

.

In the past few weeks, as I have talked with friends and aquaintances about the issues surrounding Gaza and the siege and slaughter that are taking place, I have encountered many people with less than a passing understanding of the situation and its history. I have wished time and again for a primer that would do the teaching for me.

"Thousand Beautiful Things" has posted a documentary by Australian journalist and documentarian, John Pilger, called Palestine Is the Issue. While it is evenhanded, it still manages to discuss all the issues of the Occupation. Pilger interviews both Israelis and Palestinians and discusses such issues as land confiscation, the creation of Israel, water rights and use, closure of borders, routine checkpoints that paralyse the lives of Palestinians and acts of terror perpetrated by both sides. My favorite interview is with a man who lost his daughter in a suicide bombing. It is poignant and informative. Overall, Pilger is logical and thorough in his coverage of the issues.

Please take an hour to view this important film at Thousand Beautiful Things' blog .

Diversity_Hands

My mother was a great reader and firmly believed in the power of the written word. As a result, I grew up reading voraciously. Each time any new crisis or event came into my life, I turned to books to make sense of it all. Whether it was a medical diagnosis, a new career, or friends from a new culture, I read to prepare, to make sense, to learn and to have something to contribute to the conversation.

When I became a mother myself, I read my way through my pregnancy - everything I could get my hands on about gestation, child development, heartburn - you name it. Later, as I nursed my babies, I always had the baby in one arm and a book in the other. As my children grew, they too discovered the joys and necessity of reading to make sense of the world and to have fun.

As a mother, an educator, and a citizen of the world, it hurts my heart to think of all the countless children throughout the world who will not know the joys and power of reading, who will never have free, unfettered, access to books, much less have any of their own. Literacy and education are the tools to rise out of poverty. Clearly, those of us who have so much have a responsibility to do something. That's why I love African Library Project .

The sad fact is that Africa has the highest percentage of illiterarcy in the world. Many teachers is Africa teach reading, writing, math and English without a single book, while here in the States, the poorest among us has access to free public libraries and countless sources of inexpensive used books. In fact, here in the States, many books even end up in landfills.

The African Library Project is made up of donors and volunteers working together. People in the States collect gently used books and send them to Africa. There they are distributed by Peace Corps volunteers, educators, and NGO's  who will distribute the books and set up community libraries. Since the UN has decreed 2003-2012 the United Nations Literacy Decade, the African Library Project is a wonderful way to not only increase literacy but vastly enrich children's lives in Africa. 

My children and I were fortunate enough to be able to send some of our books in a recent shipment and I don't know who was more excited, me, that we were able to help children we'd never likely meet, or my children who were so happy to give their books to children who "don't even have a LIBRARY!". My prayer is that our books in some small way, contribute to the education and happiness of children and that their lives are enriched by ours and other's donations.  

I have a friend, Michelle, who is so lovely and sweet, she always brings out the best in me. I think we all have a "Michelle" in our lives; someone who speaks to our best nature. I guess we are most drawn to those qualities in others we feel we lack in ourselves. I just know that I try to emulate her and be more in tune with how she does things.

She has two lovely daughters and wears the loveliest flowing skirts and tops. (I use "lovely" a lot when I describe Michelle) Think Stevie Nicks, minus the drugs and singing. In addition, she has intelligence and wit in abundance.  While I am all brash and noise, Michelle is calm. She actually plays with little kids on the floor and devises messy, creative, fun art projects for them with lots of glue and feathers and spangles. She is artistic and beautiful.

I am thinking of Michelle a lot today as my jobs and duties multiply like amoebas, too fast to see. We have to catch up on our work. We have a 1:00 library meeting for the teen movie group. Sadie has just informed me that she MUST MUST MUST get to B&N for a gift card for her friend, whom she will see at the teen group. Lola is working on the intricacies of long division. I try to be patient, but after doing 20 examples, when she still doesn't check to see if the number after she subtracts is smaller than the divisor, I am fried. Boyo is working on his math too, in between flying his paper airplane around my head. (How many times do I have to tell you, NOT in the dining room?) My house looks like a disaster. My laundry needs to be folded. And speaking of laundry, I have to get to the nursing home to pick up Donna's as I forgot to get it last week and it has really piled up. My other little darling has broken another glass cannister in the kitchen and now all the sugar must be thrown away.

I imagine how Michelle would handle all this chaos and in my mind's eye, she is serene and lovely as she calmly goes from one task to the next. Getting it all done but never raising her voice at her precious charges. (Will you please stop swinging that Boy Scout rope around? You'll put someone's eye out!) The sad thing is, I know that Michelle doesn't have fewer jobs than I; nor are my my children any less precious. (Lola, this math HAS to be finished!) I just have to try harder to channel my inner Michelle, my inner sweetness and light. Wish me luck.

What makes a person rich?

It is hard to answer this without falling into cliche and truisms. I've been thinking about this so much having just reread The Great Gatsby. Sadly while Gatsby had more material wealth than any of us could probably imagine, at the end, he is alone with no one but Nick to stand by him. In death, none of the hordes of people around him in life even bothered to show up for the funeral.

So, wealth for me is all about the people in my life whom I love and who love me. In our society, where millions are spent just on convincing us that we need this toy or that accessory, it is hard to keep a clear vision of what matters, what is valuable. I have always been blessed with plenty of things, but more importantly, I was truly wealthy because I had parents and family who not only loved me, they gave me limits, and taught me to be compassionate, grateful and honorable. Later, I had good friends who would stand by me, tell me honestly when I was wrong and love me anyway with all my faults and foibles. In my adult life I have been incredibly wealthy because of my husband who is the prototype of the "stand-up" guy. He is the one you want to "have your back" no matter what. I also have healthy children who remind me every day that as hard as it is, I want to be the best I can so that I can give them what I had, spiritually, emotionally and socially, (not materially).

And finally, I am incredibly wealthy because I have a spiritual life that keeps me grounded, yet makes me want to always aspire to Jenna. I have a strong faith in God and right and all that is good in the world, which gives me perspective on the darkest days. and a tradition of doing good for others, spreading love and care to others who need it.

So while, I don't have the McMansion, or the fancy car or the designer clothes, my kids are fed, I have lights and clean water and people around me that I think are pretty cool for a lot of reasons. I am wealthy.

To borrow a quote from Nevada Barr, "She wasn't always right, but she was always right there." I think that is something that I can say about myself. I care about people and try to be there for them and to help in any way I can. Sometimes it is not enough, but sometimes a simple word to someone can help him or her see things in another way and that can make all the difference.

So here's to all the people like me that "show up" and try to do good in the world (or at least in our own small corner of it!).

I love it when a "good deed" ends up being so happiness-making for me. Maybe that's selfish, but I have learned that you should live in the moment and enjoy whatever goodness and joy comes your way and not "look a gift experience in the mouth" as it were.

My cousin Donna, whom I wrote a little about in Motherhood, wanted to go to the movies. She hasn't left the nursing home (NH) where she lives in over a year. Think minimum security prison with nurses. Don't get me wrong, it's a good facility as these things go, but it can get a little grim. In the two years that Donna was able to live independently, she often went shopping, took classes at a local university and went to the movies. All that went by the wayside when she had to go back to the NH due to a relapse. She was understandably nervous about venturing out on the handicapped transport so she asked if I would go with her.

Here comes the "happiness-making" part for me. I have not gone to a grown-up movie in sixteen (that's 16 years). That's right. Outside of the occasional video or DVD I have not seen a movie geared toward adults in that long. Naturally I jumped at the chance to see whatever Donna had in mind. My only stipulation was that the plot could not have any talking animals, flying dragons or magic potions.

She chose Doubt and even though I hadn't read any reviews yet, I was all for it. I personally could watch Meryl read the phonebook, so whatever the movie was about, would be fine with me.

It was wonderful. We have since called each other back and forth debating whether Father was guilty and why Sister Aloysius was so driven to "get" him. In fact, not since Apocalypse Now on wide screen with surround sound in the Zeigfield in 1979 has a movie prompted so much discussion for me.

So great ensemble work, good discussion and hangin' out with my cuz. It's all good.