Maury Hurt's Early Work

Dave and I have colds but today we got ourselves off the couch and down to the Mennello Art Museum to see works by our hometown treasures, Maury Hurt and Grady Kimsey.

Their work is terrific so go see it. Two very different styles.

But I was a little disappointed as well. In the 1970s Maury Hurt's mother was a good friend. A kind and gracious lady, she lived in a large home in downtown Orlando. In the entrance way, just inside the front door was a painting by her son, Maury.

There is no way to adequately express how much I loved that painting. I made excuses to go to her house just to look at the painting. It always moved me.

He did many similar paintings through the years. Always of interiors, always with a crystal ball of some sort. I loved them as well. They always made me want to cry. I could always transport myself in the middle of those rooms.

Then he changed his style. His later works are wonderful - but to me, they're not magical.

If you go to the Mennello for this exhibit - and I hope you do - look a the painting just inside the door. (Just like at his mom's house in the 70s.) It's an example of the old work.

And I spied crystal balls in some of the others today as well.


***

Travel Tips

We just returned from our annual Christmas trip up north. Dave was with his family in Chicago and I was with mine in Atlanta.

The round trip in the car to Atlanta is a long one. But we've learned to listen to books on tape from the library.

This time we had copies of the old radio show "Suspense."

Tales calculated to keep you in...Suspense!

We heard Agnes Moorehead in "Sorry, Wrong Number." She was so irritating and whinny that I could almost understand why her husband wanted to bump her off.

Also heard Cary Grant, Vincent Price, Joseph Cotton, Orson Welles, Robert Taylor and Lucille Ball as a "dime a dance" gal in trouble.

As a kid these episodes would terrify me but now they're just fun.


***

What Interested You This Year?

All of the year end stats are coming out about what we cared about, worried about and thought was "hot" in 2010.


Remember, this was the year of foreclosures, bankruptcies and the oil spill. Not to mention our country's dismal education record.


In the world's most recognized standardized test for 15-year-olds, the Pisa, Shanghai ranked # One. The U. S. ranked 17th in reading comprehension and 37th in math.


But even though we didn't care much about reading and math - one of the people who interested us the most in in U.S. in 2010 was Lady GaGa. So here's a test for you. Do you know what kind of beef was used in Lady GaGa's famous raw meat dress?


Answer: Flank steak!


If only that had been one of the questions on the Pisa test.








***

Two Attitudes

Yesterday when I was in the car I heard a snippet of conversation on one of those hateful talk shows. This one out of Atlanta. They were discussing being able to legally shoot people who inter your home and threaten your safety. I was "OK" with the discussion although I don't believe I would shoot a person for any reason whatsoever.

Then the host said that he thought it should be legal to shoot and kill robbers who are not a physical threat but just trying to get away with your stuff. I was a bit distressed by this.

Later in the afternoon, again in the car, I heard a snippet from NPR (my favorite station.) A man (the victim) was telling this story.

A robber accosted him on the sidewalk, in the snow, and took his wallet. As the robber was taking off the victim said, "Why don't you come into the restaurant and have supper with me. If you're going to be doing this all night you need to eat something."

Dumbfounded, the robber went with him. They talked. (I can't remember what they said but it was rich.) I do remember that the waiter, the owner and the busboy all came by the table to talk with the two men. The robber was impressed. When the bill came the victim told the robber that he didn't have any money since his wallet had been stolen.

So the robber paid the bill and then gave the victim back his wallet.

The victim thanked the robber, gave him $20, and they went their separate ways.

I don't know if I would, at my age, still have the courage to do the above - but I hope I would.


***

Maybe It's a Mars and Venus Thing

Did you read about the Wisconsin mailman who delivered the mail to an office worker who was "stressed" and needed cheering up?

Let's see, he could have taken her some cookies or he could have said "How are you doing?" and really listened to her answer. He could have said a little prayer for her or taken her some herbal tea.

But what he did was he delivered her mail naked. He said he just wanted to make her laugh.

Let's give the guy a break. Maybe his heart was in the right place. And, after all, (as Minnesotans would explain it) he's from Wisconsin.


***

My Friend Jim

Like thousands of others, I call Jim Armstrong my friend. I first met him in 1959 when he was the brilliant and handsome young minister at the then great Broadway Methodist Church in Indianapolis. One Sunday I told him I was worried about my dad, a struggling and perpetually depressed artist, who operated a little dry cleaners called "Fine Art Cleaners" in the inner city. The day after I shared my concern Jim visited my dad at the dry cleaners.

Jim is old, even older than me. But he remains the smartest person I've ever known. And that's saying something because I'm surrounded by brilliance. He's also the most liberal person I know. And that's saying something as well.

Jim remains controversial. He's had a wild and crazy professional and personal life. He's been a United Methodist bishop, president of the National Council of Churches, a professor at Iliff and is currently a professor of Ethics and Philosophy at Rollins College. His graduate studies were in psychotherapy and he's spent a lifetime as a professional counselor.

He was one of the people who helped keep me sane during my husband, Ken's, long illness.

Do we agree on everything? Absolutely not. I almost gave him a stroke a couple of years ago when I told him I was voting for a local Republican. I have traditional Christian beliefs. He does not.

He has a new book out. I love it. You'll be reading quotes in this blog soon. He's full of wisdom.

The book is: Living & Dying With Purpose and Grace - Rider Green Book Publishers. You can find it on Amazon.

The forward to the book is written by one of Jim's other thousands of close friends, George McGovern:

...Jim Armstrong is not afraid to probe the depths of both religion and politics...he has toiled in a world of sin and virtue...I first heard Jim Armstrong more than forty years ago and believe he has been one of the most effective (speakers) of our time. His fluency and power have been a joy and inspiration to me and to thousands of others.

When Dave and I had dinner in Jim's home last week his beautiful wife, Sheri, prepared a beautiful meal. But the time before that when we ate in their home, Jim fixed the meal. That's kind of the essence of this man.

***

Retirement Work

The title above sounds like an oxymoron. But many of my friends are doing inspiring things in retirement. I asked one the other evening about her volunteer work. She's a lovely, quiet, unassuming lady.

She started her career as a teacher. When she and her husband discovered that their daughter was deaf she went back to school for a degree in speech pathology and audiology and then spent the rest of her career in the public school system.

When she retired she did volunteer work in the hospital's thrift shop until it closed. Then what? Would she twiddle her thumbs?

She's at the hospital giving hearing tests to new born babies, some of them tiny preemies. We have the technology for this now. Wow.

Naturally, she needed many months of additional training for this volunteer job. I'm constantly amazed at what my friends are doing in retirement. What would we do without them?

***

Cyber Self Diagnosis

Some doctors get really ticked off if you research your medical issue prior to your appointment - and arrive with opinions.

But the Internet has given us the ability to learn more than ever about our bodies. I'm not ready to take out my appendix but I did see a YouTube video recently on how to perform a vasectomy. It looked easy.

Seriously, stuff happens to us as we get older. In August my tongue started tingling and burning. I changed my diet, toothpaste, mouthwash and floss. No help.

Late in September, at my regular check up, the dentist found nothing wrong. In October my doctor found nothing wrong.

I was beside myself. Something WAS wrong. I finally found a web site that described my symptoms to a tee. It said there was no known cause and no cure but it happens to older people, usually lasts a few months and then goes away spontaneously.

That's exactly what happened. After four months of having my tongue on fire, it went away. But, in the meantime, what a relief to have that information.

I know absolutely that I prolonged my husband, Ken's, life by doing heavy Internet research on his condition. His doctors weren't one bit intimated. We were all on Ken's Health Team.


***

Table Talk

We had lunch with my Oldies today.

They seemed so happy to see us but I honestly don't think Mr. Oldie knew who we were. Lunch conversation is getting harder and harder.

What would you talk about if you couldn't remember anything?

The last time we were there we teased Mr. Oldie about when he and his neighbor and fellow curmudgeon, Andy Rooney, lived in Connecticut, and rode into New York together on the train.

But now he doesn't remember the train, Connecticut or Andy Rooney.

When all of the memories go and we truly live in the moment, conversation suffers.

The two lunch choices were shrimp or Philly sandwiches. They didn't seem to know what either was and appeared to be overwhelmed when their Philly steak sandwiches arrived.

I'm so happy and grateful that they're safe and well cared for.

***

Joy, Joy, Joy

I believe in the "perfectibility of human society" and have a confidence that humans can bring about the Kingdom of God. Heaven happens when people treat each other on earth as Jesus instructed - as brothers and sisters. - Reinhold Niebuhr

Last week I taught my Sunday school class. My two requests were:

Tell us about a time when you experienced a particular joy in your life.

Tell us about a time when you were aware of helping to provide joy to the lives of others.

Wow, what great responses ensued. The folks in my class are so positive and giving and open that the discussion was all that was needed to make my point.

One man said that he felt Joy the last time we fed the homeless together. I joked that, yeah, it is a joy except when you get stuck with serving the soup.

But I was just kidding. It's always a joy to help folks who need it.


***

Is It a Myth?

As you probably have seen, American Atheist David Silverman has erected a billboard in New York of the Nativity with the headline "You Know It's a Myth."

H-E-Double Toothpicks has broken loose. The cable networks have gone crazy with it. A Catholic organization has erected a competing billboard on the other side of the street. Same Nativity but with the headline "You Know It's the Truth." When I saw a representative being interviewed he was hoppin' mad.

Is it a myth? Not for me it isn't. Well, some of the details of the birth story might be. The time line for those three Kings coming to the manger don't quite work out - but the basic story and the ultimate meaning of the story work just fine for me.

How do I react to Mr. Silverman's billboard? It makes me think and makes me reaffirm my faith.

How do I react to the wild, angry comments from Christian organizations and individuals around the country? I wish they'd read the Sermon on the Mount or at least a Christmas card or two that show Jesus as The Prince of Peace.

I wish they'd evidence a sense of humor and a little loving Christian tolerance and kindness.

You know, the way Jesus did.

***

Willie's On My Mind

Willie Nelson was in the paper today. He's facing jail time for pot possession. This makes no sense to me because Willie's been smoking pot every day for 60 years and everybody on the planet knows it.

But then I, myself, like to occasionally give Willie a hard time.

Yesterday I listened to one of my favorite Willie Nelson CDs while I trimmed the Christmas tree. One of the most beautiful songs he's ever sung is "You Were Always On My Mind." But the message is:

Sorry babe, I couldn't take you to your chemo treatment, 'cause I had a gig in Amarillo. But it's OK 'cause you were on my mind.

And don't get me started on "She's a Good Hearted Woman In Love With a Good Time Man."

But Willie's done some wonderful things in his long life and seems to be a congruent person. And I love his voice. So I hope he gets out of this latest jam.

P.S. Do you remember years ago when Willie had a line of clothes at K-Mart? Of course it failed because who in the world would like to dress like Willie Nelson?





***

Why I'm Happy

Dan Buettner has written a new book called "Thrive." It's a study of ways people can achieve happiness.

By the way, Dan says the happiest people in the USA live in San Luis Obispo, CA. Bummer for the rest of us!


But when he listed the four most happiness-producing elements, I knew I was golden. Here they are:


1. Sleep - Happy people get a good night's sleep. As those of you who read this blog regularly know, I have suffered life long insomnia. But about five years ago I started taking sleep seriously. One of the many things I do now is sleep in a cool room. Tonight it's supposed to get down to 15 degrees. Yes, I will open the bedroom windows as usual. Yes, Dave has a sense of humor about this.



2. Money - Yes, money's important. But we don't need much, just enough to feel secure about our shelter, food and medical care. That's about $75,000 for a family of four. So if you have more, share it. That will make you happy as well.


3. Physical Activity - Walking's the best, and it's free. Dave and I never miss a day.


4. Social Activity - Dave and I love being with other people. We love being with friends and family - and friendly strangers.


So those are Dan Buettner's top four elements. As you know, I'm a spiritual person so I would put that at the top of the mix. Being grateful every day for what I have makes me happy. But that's just me.


I do agree with his best advice for unhappy people who want to get happy: "You have to work at it."

Seems crazy to even say that but I see unhappy people all the time who seem to wallow in it.





***

How Scary Is the Inner City?

The other evening we watched the PBS special where writer and actor Tina Fey won the 2010 Mark Twain Award for American Humor. During the show they replayed one of the "30 Rock" segments where the character played by Tracy Morgan was having a flashback on his life in the 'hood.

Keep in mind that this was written for Tracy by Tina Fey, the self described "obedient white girl from the suburbs."

It's all coming back...I watched a prostitute stab a clown! Our basketball hoop was a ribcage!

I blocked all this stuff out for a reason.

Oh, Lord, some guy with dreads electrocuted my fish.

All my life I've tried to forget the things I've seen.

A crackhead breastfeeding a rat. A homeless man cooking a Hot Pocket on a third rail of the G train!...A puppy committed suicide after he saw our bathroom! I once bit into a burrito and there was a child's shoe in it! I've seen a hooker eat a tire!..A pack of wild dogs took over and successfully ran a Wendy's!

I, myself, grew up on the mean streets of inner city Indianapolis but I never experienced anything like this. Or did I just block it out for a reason? I think I'll call my brother and check it out with him.


***

Those People in Wisconsin Are Crazy

Apparently a large number of Americans are surprised that Bristol Palin is still on "Dancing With the Stars". I've seen her on the show only a couple of times but she has really improved as a dancer - and isn't that what it's all about?

Some people have suggested that Bristol is getting votes because of her famous mom. But she was quoted a few days as saying that as many people dislike her mom as like her.

That makes sense to me. I'm willing to believe that Bristol is hanging in there on her own merits. And good for her.

In a related story in this morning's Minneapolis Star Tribune, a Wisconsin man, apparently fueled by several beverages, blasted his television with a shotgun, because (apparently again) he was enraged by Bristol's performance on "DWTS." Officers coaxed him out of his house after an all-night standoff.

When Dave told this story to the young lady who served us our lunch today, her only response was:

"Those people in Wisconsin are crazy!"


***

Change of Scenery

Yesterday I went, with some of my girlfriends, to the Orlando Museum of Art to see the Festival of the Trees. Corporations and other sponsors produce glitzy elaborately decorated Christmas trees. It's a study in over-the-top- ness. It has nothing to do with the birth of the baby in the manger.

But I like it.

We had fun but I was a bit uncomfortable hoofing it across the park to my car because it was 82 degrees and the sun was blazing.

This morning Dave and I hopped on a plane and flew to his home in Minneapolis. As you know, it's been snowing in Minnesota. And I hope it snows some more before we drive back down south in Dave's car.

I know that thousands of people travel every day and a change of scenery is no big deal to them. But I'm still in awe of flying across the country and experiencing the opposite weather.

I hope I never stop being in awe of what's around me.

***

The Meaning of Life

The theory that man is nothing but the result of biological, psychological and sociological conditions, or the product of heredity and environment is wrong.

We are not fully conditioned and determined but rather determine ourselves whether we give in to conditions or stand up the them.

There is nothing conceivable which would so condition a person as to leave him (or her) without the slightest freedom.

- Viktor E. Frankl, "Man's Search for Meaning," 1959

Dr. Frankl came to the above conclusions while he was a prisoner in Auschwitz during the Second World War. I read his book in 1962 and it helped determine the person I would become.

A few days ago Dave and I went with some family and friends to the Holocaust Center close to our condo to meet Helen Greenspun, a lovely 84 year old Holocaust survivor. She was taken from her home at age 14 and kept under Nazi control for 6 years.

Her story is as harrowing as you could possibly imagine. But it's also a story of triumph. I want to share with you what she called, "Three Miracles.'

1. The Germans came for all of the Jewish girls 16 and over. Helen's mother sent her to sneak a bag of food to her sister who was crammed, along with others, into the back of a truck. A guard saw Helen and forced her on the truck with the others. All the while she was screaming that she was only 14, but to no avail.

The miracle? All of the Jews who stayed in the village were murdered.

2. The job she was given was working with potatoes. The Miracle? She was able to sneak potato scraps back to the other girls in the barracks (most of the girls eventually died, many of starvation.)

3. All along the way there were a few Germans (very few) who bent the rules in order to keep these girls alive. Toward the end of her ordeal they were sent on a forced march with no food or water. As they traveled through villages some German women threw scrapes of food at them and a few of the guards allowed them to pick them up.

Helen was saved by American soldiers in 1945. She spent two months in a hospital and close to a year in a sanitarium.

Today, at age 84, she still speaks, as she has for all of these years, to groups of children and adults - so that we will never forget.


***

Environmentally Responsible Cartoons

As you know, I'm green. I want to leave a small footprint when I go.

So I was delighted to see these cartoons in the latest New Yorker.

Most folks don't even notice when there's a theme running through the cartoons, but it happens often.

So hats off to cartoonists Farley Katz,

Paul Noth and Michael Shaw for being environmentally responsible in their tongue in cheek irreverence.

I don't even mind them inquiring about Jesus' "methods" in performing the loaves and fishes miracle.

Because, as you know, I'm a Methodist.

***

SPANX for the Memories

Do you know what Spanx are?

They're what we used to call in the 60s - girdles. Only Spanx are a girdle on steroids. If girdles are your 3rd grade math teacher, Spanx are Albert Einstein.

One night, on one of our many trips, we had a glass of wine with two older, very overweight, very funny, lady professors. One was a frequent guest on her local NPR station. I asked what she usually spoke about and, before she could answer, her friend told us a hilarious story she shared on the air about trying to get into her Spanx the first time.

In some department stores they show a little video of tons of celebs jabbering about how they love their Spanx. Unlike girdles, they come in all styles. Your Spanx can cover you from chest to knees or any one of those special parts.

So guess what Dave bought me? Yes, he went, all by himself, to Dillard's where he and the male sales person got their heads together and, entering my height and weight on the chart on the back of the carton, came up with the Perfect Spanx for Cess. Yes, he loves me that much.

How romantic is that?

I wore my Spanx today. Those of you who saw me probably noticed.



***

Jesus Hates Figs

A friend and I were talking yesterday about the clever signs at last Saturday's Rally to Restore Sanity.

Signs like "Somewhat Irritated About Extreme Outrage " or "Let's Do This More Often," or "Only Hitler Was Hitler," or - more provocative -"Jesus Hates Figs."


Does Jesus hate figs?


There is a strange story in the Gospels about Jesus walking by a fig tree. He was hungry but when he looked for figs he found only leaves. So he zapped the tree.


Most scholars agree that it was a motivational lesson for his disciples about what powerful things they can do if they believe.


I don't think Jesus hates figs. Most everything I've ever read about Jesus is that he loves everything and everybody on this earth.


For God so loved the world...





***

Madeleine Albright's Pins

Hope you voted today. I also hope and pray that the new batch of leaders, no matter who they are, will try hard to work together.


Last night I read another article about Madeleine Albright's pins. As you may know, despite speaking six or seven languages, she often used her brooches or pins to make a "point" when she was Secretary of State. And she still does.


It all started with Saddam Hussein. When the first Gulf War ended she was depicted in the Baghdad papers as a "serpent." So she decided to wear her snake pin.


When the Russians were bugging the State Department in the 90s she wore her big bug pin.


One of my favorites is her Dove pin.


Also, on this voting day when I think the most important need is coming together - I love the story Madeleine Albright tells about her dad.


He was a brilliant professor. She was a brilliant student. But, as she says her dad told it, she wasn't his most brilliant student.


Condoleezza Rice was.




***

Mammo Tales

I had a mammogram this morning. Just a regular procedure.

After getting undressed and putting on one of those glamorous gowns I was sent to the waiting area. I looked around. In one corner were three bald women. I sat with them.

In the next half hour I heard some amazing stories - about frustration, courage, pain and hope. All three of the women had difficulty getting their various cancers diagnosed. All three had been through months and years of treatment. When the first of us was called into the imaging room she said, "I don't want to leave until our conversation's over." But she did.

There's power in women telling their stories. I didn't feel worthy to share other than to ask questions and compliment them on their bravery and perseverance.

We all agreed that - when we know our bodies aren't functioning properly - it's important to keep searching for answers until a diagnosis is found. No matter how many times we're told there's nothing wrong. We've all been told "You're fine!" when we knew we weren't.

An irony was that when I was being checked in I complimented the intake person on the hospital's new information technology. She immediately volunteered that she was 26 years old and had suffered from cancer since she was 12 - so she was happy with it as well.

I left with my new pink health calendar and my new pink ribbon pin. I gave my pink candies to Dave.

***

Full Circle

When I was a young woman my husband, Ken, and I were deeply involved in urban ministry.

Don't know what that means?

After leaving seminary in Atlanta, where we were heavily influenced by Martin Luther King, Jr. and other Civil Rights leaders, we were sent to a downtown church in Ft. Lauderdale. Ken was the associate pastor. During that time we both became active in the community. Housing for the poor was a big issue. Along with others, we put together a group consisting of city leaders and homeless people, church activists, housewives, etc. and eventually put up a 501c3 apartment building. Later, the Kiwanis took our plans and put up another one next to it. This sort of thing had never happened before.

Yes, there were problems. Drug dealers were everywhere. Putting residents on the apartment management board helped but the biggest help was moving three really tough nuns into a ground floor apartment!

And, by the way, those apartment buildings are still there.

That was the beginning of a very hard, scary, but oh so fulfilling, nine years of urban ministry. It wasn't just about helping people. It was about empowering people. Including ourselves.


When you see a well-to-do church going suburbanite simply become friends with a poor urban woman and then discover how the system discriminates against the poor - that's sometimes the beginning of systemic change.

And now, almost forty years later, there's a chance that my church might step into urban ministry in a big way. If we do, it certainly won't be the same as it was in back then. The needs, the knowledge, the skills and the times themselves are different.

But the changes that will take place within the folks on this journey will be just as amazing.

One evening in the 70s I attended an urban ministry meeting to discuss the horrendous racial strife in Broward County. A black, urban psychologist suggested that what was needed were classes for primarily white community and church groups, helping folks work through their fears and prejudices. He identified a brilliant young black Episcopal priest who would be able to pull it off. But the group decided he needed a white female co-leader.

I wondered that night who would in the world would be brave and foolish enough to do it.


***

Hereafter

What does Clint Eastwood know about the hereafter that I don't?

Nothing.

But I wanted to see this movie so Dave and I went last night. With some major reservations, I liked it. He didn't.

Here's the problem. It's badly in need of editing. I could have edited out 40 minutes myself without losing any of the plot. For instance, when Matt Damon's taking the cooking class we spend lots of time watching him chop tomatoes and I don't even like the way he's chopping. If there was a point to it I missed it. Later, while waiting in line to get his book signed we have to see another person get hers signed first, then another, then another and so on. What's the point of that?

For those who love special effects the promos have shown the Tsunami that takes place in the first 10 minutes. While it's a horrifyingly accurate portrayal of a real tragedy, it's the only spectacular, wild special effect in the movie. So some folks are feeling cheated.

It's a quiet movie. It's a sad movie. The three plot lines that come together in the end feature attractive people who are suffering - especially the little boy.

But the movie lifts up ultimate concerns. It makes us think - not only about the hereafter but the present.

The annual poll that tells us the reality for 18 year olds said recently that they know Clint Eastwood only as a great, old, sensitive movie director.

And that's what he is.

***

Is Sanity a Possibility?

Last night Rick Scott and Alex Sink, the two candidates for governor of the state of Florida, held a debate. I tried to watch it but it was just too stressful and embarrassing.

It was a slug fest.

One commentator likened it to second graders on a playground.

You're a liar. No you're a liar. I know you are but what am I?

If you were looking for how one of these candidates would lead the fourth largest state (population wise) in the country you didn't get a clue last night.

But here's some good news. (For me, anyway.) John Stewart is going to lead his Rally to Restore Sanity in Washington, D.C. on Saturday. No shouting, you will want to use your inside voice. It will (hopefully) be people who are not on the fringe of anything. Just us folks in the middle wanting our leaders to learn to work together.

For those of us who can't go, there will be places across the country to gather and watch the rally on television. These places will be kid friendly. Everybody is welcome.

Just plan to use your inside voice and be civil.

***

A Pleasant Surprise

This morning I was looking through old diaries and journals for some "profound" thing I'd written several years ago.

As you might imagine, I have volumes. At times, writing has kept me sane. Literally.

A few years back, when I was going through a particularly rough patch which included days of not sleeping, my good friend (who, by the way, is much more creative than I am) gave me an "Insomnia Journal." It's mostly blank pages but some of them have hints about treating insomnia.

As I thumbed through it this morning I noticed that my friend had written very funny and sweet responses to some of these words of wisdom.

For instance, in the notes on Tryptophan, a natural sedative, the book suggests warm milk, turkey and scrambled eggs. My friend had added: Best - a turkey leg floating in warm milk. That created such a funny picture in my mind that I laughed out loud.

On another page the book suggests childhood comfort foods. She added: Buttermilk over potato chips in a glass works for me!

When I was a child my bedtime treat was bread chunks in a glass of milk and sugar. It was good but it didn't help me sleep.

Finding the journal this morning was a sweet reminder of how friends can help us through anything.

And, yes, I found the notes I was looking for. They were in the last place I looked.


***

The Ferris Wheel Revisited

As you may remember, Dave and I had our first date in Chicago in 2005. One of the highlights was a romantic ride on the Ferris wheel at the Navy Pier.

Since then, every year at this time, we walk to the annual fair on the campus of St. Mary Magdalene Catholic Church and School to ride the Ferris wheel and eat something silly.

It's not as big as the one in Chicago but we can still relive the romance.

So this past Friday night we walked to the fair. We saw friends, watched people stand in line waiting for food while eating plates of food, and then ambled over to stand in line for the Ferris wheel.

A little boy, about six years old, stood in front of us. His grandfather was letting him ride by himself. When we were almost to the ride the little boy pulled on my shirt and asked us to ride in the same car with him. Of course we said OK.

"But no swinging the car!", says I.

We boarded. I sat next to Dave. The little boy looked at me and said, "Please sit by me."

Good thing I did because it was a wild ride indeed. The kid talked non stop. He jumped around. He tried to grab the posts as we whizzed by. I grabbed the tail of his shirt several times when he tried to stand on the seat.

When we stopped on top he kind of panicked and said he wanted out. We talked him back down into his seat.

I certainly wouldn't want to label this little boy but he seemed to have a big attention deficit and was extremely active. What was his grandfather thinking sending him on a Ferris wheel alone?

So it wasn't so romantic this time but it was interesting.

***

Running to the Fire

We all know this phrase, made famous by the 9-11 fire fighters. I was reminded again last week when the rescue workers at the Chilean mine volunteered to go down into the mine in that tiny capsule to assist the miners in their trip up.

Yesterday I met with my Power Rangers. A handful of the most remarkable women you could imagine.

All of us are doing exceptional things. One of us is going to Haiti in a couple of weeks to work in a children's hospital with families suffering from Hiv/AIDs.

One of us is involved in a family tragedy that is beyond anything most parents could imagine. It's the kind of slowly unfolding story from which epic books are written and inspirational movies are made - about the unbreakable human spirit.

She has a history of making the hard choices - even when all kinds of other options are available.

She said to us yesterday, This is where I choose to be. (meaning here with her family in the midst of this long, ongoing tragedy.) I don't want to be anyplace else.

We Power Rangers are getting older. In some ways we're losing our power. But in the most important way we have all the power we need.

To continue to run to the fire.





***

Losing People

In the past several days some people I know have died. It's sad and sobering. It happens more often than in the past and in all likelihood it will increase exponentially before it happens to me.

Since I'm not a very emotional person I've gone about sending notes, and just doing what I need to do. Being thankful for these people having been in my life. Being pragmatic. Soldiering on. That's what I do.

Then two things happened. Tom Bosley died. I felt unusually sad. And I thought "This is crazy." But he's been a part of our lives since Happy Days and Murder She Wrote. And Dave and I saw him on the stage three years ago in On Golden Pond. We were in the first row. I loved seeing his wrinkly face up close. So, in a way, my unusual sadness made sense.

Then I saw in the paper this morning that Ed Hayes died. As some of you know, he's been a writer in central Florida forever. Since 1957 he's written sports, then a very popular column called Hushpuppies.

Since retirement he's written a syndicated column called Heydays. Very sweet and homey. I've often said to Dave, "Ed Hayes is my roll model. 86 years old, still has his marbles and is still writing."

Now he's gone. I never met Ed Hayes but I am beyond sad this morning.


***

Get A Life

Several years ago I read a book by the Nobel prize winning writer, V. S. Naipaul, called "Half a Life." It takes place in India and is about a man who spends the best part of his life just trying to fit in and make do.

"I have risked nothing", he says. "And now the best part of my life is over."

I was deeply moved by this powerful book.

This week I read another book that, to me, had somewhat the same message. Many times my best reading is done when a close friend puts a book in my hand and says, "You need to read this."

This book is about a young man from Pakistan who graduates from Princeton at the top of his class and gets chosen by a prestigious and powerful American company.

Later, he discovers he's made a mistake and says "I had thrown my lot with the men of (the company,) with the officers of the empire, when all along I was predisposed to feel compassion for those...whose lives the empire thought nothing of overturning for its own gain."

Forty some years ago I wrote a poem about a friend who was forced in to change and went on to live an exceptional life.

LIZZY STEPS OUT

Look out Lizzy,
Your world's falling down,
He says he's leaving,
For a new love he's found.
I know you've been married,
for 21 years,
You've begged and pleaded,
And shed lots of tears,
But he thinks you're boring,
And placid and dull,
With just no life of your own, at all,
And even though the life you've lived through,
Has been his,
It doesn't count,
He wants out,
He's leaving.

Well, he's been gone now,
For 34 days,
And you're still seeing life,
Through a tranquilizer haze,
Come on, Lizzy, don't give up,
There's a world out there,
Go fill your cup,
But it's hard to see yourself,
As anything but "wife,"
When for 21 years,
You've lived another person's life,
But that's all over,
It's through,
He's gone.

Come on Lizzy,
Let's celebrate living,
You're accepting too much,
You need to be giving.
You're a person of worth,
You're a giver of love,
There are things to be done,
That you've never dreamed of.
Don't think about him.
It's over.
He's gone.

Hurray for Lizzy,
she's on the right track.
It's been two years now,
And she's not looking back.
She's making decisions,
She's dealing with "what is."
(remember when all of the policy-making,
was his?)
Life is different,
That you can't ignore,
But you found out something,
You might never have known before,
About you.
You're complete.
You're whole.
And that's enough!
(For right now.)


***

Keeping A Civil Tongue

As you know, I'm a great believer in civility. Most of my close friends don't think exactly the same way I do on certain issues but we can have an enjoyable time discussing almost anything.

Including politics.

But I'm running into more and more folks who come on with hate words.

Recently, when I was feeling sad about this, my friend reminded me of an article in the AARP Newsletter called "Civility in a Fractured Society."

In it Jim Leach reminds us that this isn't the lowest point in our political history. In 1804 Aaron Burr shot and killed Alexander Hamilton, our greatest Secretary of the Treasury.

Fifty years later Congressman Preston Brooks caned Senator Charles Sumner unconscious on the Senate floor in an argument over slavery.

We've always accused our leaders being a member of whatever group we're hating the most at the time - Thomas Jefferson a Catholic, Franklin Roosevelt a Jew, George Bush a fascist and, of course, Barack Obama a fascist and Muslim.

But it's much worse now because we're in the age of instant communication and hate-based talk shows.

I want to listen to you and learn from you but please don't tell me who you hate and why that person is Satan. Tell me how you would solve problems. Tell me what you love and why.


***

I'm Not a Good Facebook Friend

I get on Facebook about once a month to see what my family's up to. Most folks around the world get on Facebook several times a day.

Facebook is all over the planet and is currently worth between 35 and 40 BILLION dollars.

It was started at Harvard in 2003 by a 19 year old kid named Mark Zukerberg. Dave and I saw the movie "Social Network" last night. It was exciting and fast moving. It's the kind of movie to make us older folks (like over 35) shake our heads in disbelief.

Apparently Mark Zukerberg didn't care about money. What I got from the movie is that he invented Facebook for revenge.

You've probably read that the current 26 year old Mark Zukerberg recently gave the city of Newark's school system 100 million dollars, apparently to help his image before this unflattering movie came out.

The kid obviously was and is beyond brilliant. But - even though Facebook does lots of good by getting people and groups all over the world communicating - I wonder how much more good he could do if he put his considerately useful brain to working on serious world wide problems.

(I'll bet he could get this bedbug problem in luxery hotels figured out lickity split )

But the movie is good.

Justin Timberlake is great as that Napster guy.


***

My Architect

Last Wednesday night Dave and I went to Rollins College to see the movie, "My Architect," a documentary on the great architect, Louis Kahn, made in 2003 by his son, Nathaniel Kahn.

When a man sitting in front of us asked it we'd seen it before I said, "Oh, yes. It's like "The Wizard of Oz" for architects. They have to see it once a year." But, in truth, Dave's seen it only two other times.

Louie Kahn's buildings are amazing and they're all over the world. This photo is of the Salk Institute. But that's not what fascinates me about the movie and the man.

Louie Kahn had a heart attack and died penniless in the bathroom of Penn Station. He left three families. His wife and daughter, a mistress and a daughter and another mistress and a son. The son, who was never publicly acknowledged, made the documentary. It's pretty evident that he made life difficult for his various families and those who worked with him.

In the movie we visit all of Louie Kahn's buildings. The last, and some say the finest, is in Bangladesh, the poorest country in the world. It was on the way home from Bangladesh that he collapsed and died.

To say that Louie Kahn didn't care about money would be quite an understatement. He lost money on almost every one of his buildings. Toward the end of the film, Evan Shieh, the local architect on the Bangladesh project said two things about him that reminded me of Ken.

He had such passion that he could not say no to anything.

He loved everybody and to love everybody is to not always see the ones closest to you.

***

Nothing Lasts a Lifetime

In the late 60s, when we were getting ready to go off to seminary, a dentist friend and neighbor told me to come see him in his office. He wanted to do something for me.

I thought maybe he wanted to give me a free toothbrush.

But what he did was to fill almost all of my teeth with those those old fashioned silver fillings. He didn't even ask me first. He just got into my mouth and did it. He said I'd thank him over the years because I would never have a cavity or other teeth problems.

And he was pretty much right - up until about four years ago.

Now the fillings are failing and each new cap is very, very, expensive. My dentist told me last week that another one is about to bite the dust.

It's sort of like buying all new appliances at the same time. They last for years and years but then when they start to go - they all go at the same time. Bummer.

At least I got a new toothbrush at my last appointment.


***

Some Changed My Life, Some Didn't

Remember when the only way we saw news was to go to the movies and watch a three week old newsreel?

The last AARP Newsletter listed the live TV moments that changed our lives.

1963 - John Kennedy was assassinated. I was glued to the TV for days along with everybody else in the world who had a TV. I was stunned when Jack Ruby shot Lee Harvey Oswald, my first time to see a person killed in real time - but, unfortunately, not my last.

1964 - The Beatles were on The Ed Sullivan Show. I saw it but (and please don't hate me) I never "got" the Beatles.

1968 - Democratic Convention Riots. I was glued to the TV. What a bloody mess!

1969 - Super Bowl III. Didn't see it or any other Super Bowl game for that matter.

1969 - Apollo 11 Moon Landing. It was in the middle of the night but I did stay up to see it.

1981 - Charles and Diane Wedding. Didn't watch it and can't quite comprehend how it could change anybody's life, other than theirs.

1981 - MTV Debut. This is important because it killed the importance of music fm radio. I've never seen MTV and I still listen to the radio.

1991 - Persian Gulf War Invasion. I was glued to the TV. This was the time I developed a girl crush on Christiane Amanpour, watching her report the news every night with the bombs dropping all around her. By the way, I still have the crush and if I hadn't lived my own meaningful life I would like to have lived one like hers.

2001 - Terrorist Attacks. Seen round the world in real time. And it has changed our lives in profound ways. Those of us who are old enough will remember forever exactly where we were and what we were doing on this day and the day JFK was shot.

***

The Master Butchers Singing Club

I just finished this book. Before leaving Minneapolis Dave saw the play. Didn't know how they could make a play from this book because it's complicated and spans most of a century. But then I remembered they did it with one of my favorite books and plays, Ragtime.

And like Ragtime, The Master Butchers Singing Club is a raw story about families, with our changing country as a backdrop.

What goes on in these families? Death, alcoholism, homosexuality, love, betrayal, loss. In other words, real life.

Here's a quote that reminded me about how our country has many times encountered hard times and came out stronger. It takes place in the butcher's shop during World War II:

At the same time as business boomed, shortages plagued them. Although Fidelis possessed a much coveted C sticker for the delivery truck, they were always low on gasoline. Coffee disappeared. The government requisitioned butter from the dairies so she sold blocks of oleomargarine with little pats of yellow dye. Her distributor could supply only the lowest grade of canned goods, then none. No eggs.

Here's a quote that reminded me of me:

That mother loss had made Delphine strong, but also caused her to live as a damaged person, a searcher with a hopeless quest, a practical-minded woman with a streak of dismay. Even now that she could count herself close to middle age, she missed her mother.



***

The Oliver Sachs Excuse

Oliver Sachs is a Professor of Neurology and Psychiatry at Columbia Medical Center. He's also a prolific writer. He writes about quirky brain abnoralities. He wrote "Awakenings" in the 80s. It was made into a movie staring Robin Williams as Sachs and Robert De Niro as a patient. I loved the book and the movie.

But my favorite book was "The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat." It's case studies of people who's brains play terrible tricks on them.

Some critics who think he exploits his patients call him The Man Who Mistook His Patients for a Literary Career - but I don't think that.

His work is very readable because it's personal so it gives me grace in the sense that it helps me to know that I'm fallible and my brain will never be perfect. Lately he's written about music and the brain. He, himself, has a disorder of the brain that prevents him from recognizing faces. For some people it's voices. Even faces and voices of folks we know and love.

I was thinking about Dr. Sachs yesterday in church when I looked at several people and thought "Do I know you?" And hearing's more of a problem. Is it my brain or my aging ears?

I'm going to see Dave tomorrow after being apart for two weeks.

I hope I don't get to the airport and mistake him for a hat.


***

Intense Competition

This morning I took my usual Saturday walk on my favorite street in all the world.

I love looking at the sidewalk sales. I saw some black jeans that were half price at only $178.

As you may remember, I have a hard time with the double strollers blocking my way at the farmer's market and the designer dogs. And I especially have a problem with the double strollers that contain dogs.

Ever since my running days I've been intimidated by big dogs, even if they're dressed better than I am. Loving but clueless dog owners (or as some of them call themselves "parents") think the rest of us are fine with their one hundred pound dogs lunging at or jumping on us petless walkers. But maybe being knocked down or nipped on this street would have an upside.

Cha-ching!

But I was treated to a new sight today. I'm used to the guy with the colorful parrot on his shoulder but - and I'm not making this up - I saw a big guy with a little black bunny rabbit on an expensive leash.

I missed Dave. I missed my Oldies. But, as usual, I loved my walk.

***

I Miss Him

A friend said today, "Don't you miss him?"

Yes, I miss him. But Dave and I knew when we got into this thing that life would be tricky. Dave's still in Minnesota. I'm in Florida. Why? We have homes and other, even more important, obligations. Life is complicated. But he'll be here on Tuesday. Whoopee!

We knew when we got into this that it would be complicated. You may remember our (some might say anal) buttoning down every detail we could think of. But then we just gave in and decided to go for it.

During that time Dave sent me a poem he'd seen in some magazine. We agreed it described our relationship to a T.

We saw each other
in the same place for
years before we met.

Destined? Rather as
if we were trying
to defy fate. But

finally worn out
we acceded to
the chance and a bed.


***

Thomas Merton

Have you ever needed to say something but didn't have the words? Happens to me all the time.

When I was stewing around a while back about folks who have everything nailed down - especially theologically and politically - I found myself struggling for words to express where I am.

Then I read some "Thomas Merton." Merton was a Catholic Monk and, some say, the most important Catholic writer of the 20th century. I've found that, when I don't have the words, great minds like Merton can express them for me.

So, while reading, I ran across an old prayer that said exactly what I was (and still am) feeling. I read it in Sunday school yesterday and a couple of people asked for a copy. So here it is.

Discernment

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going
I do not see the road ahead of me.

I cannot know for certain where it will end,
Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I
am following your will does not mean that I am actually
doing so.

But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please
you,
and I hope that I have that desire in all that I am doing.

I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.

And I know that if I do this, you will lead me by the right road
though I may know nothing about it.

Therefore I will trust you always
though I may seem lost and in the shadow of death
I will not fear, for you are ever with me,
And you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

-Thomas Merton, The Road Ahead


***

Getting Old is the Pits!

I'm not talkin' about me. All my parts are still working. I haven't had a brain lapse since I tried to drive a stranger's car home from the mall. But, as you know, that was months ago.


I'm talking about getting really old.


I'm taking a class and one of the questions was "Where do you expect to be in 20 years?" After much thought, I answered, "Dead."


But my good friend reminded me that her mother is 20 years older than we are and she's still very much alive and making life interesting for herself and her family.


All this to say that one of the first things I did after coming home to Florida was to visit my Oldies. Through A Series of Unfortunate Incidents they're now in assisted living. They didn't go quietly.


At 89 and 90 they have many serious health issues including heart disease and Alzheimer's. They're in a lovely place but they no longer have the freedom to eat in restaurants three times a day and do the other things they love.


But they are absolutely where they need to be.


I was so happy to see them - but afraid they wouldn't know me. They did. She knew my name but he called me Beatrice a couple of times.


I said, "Who is this Beatrice? My name is Cess." He laughed (but he had no idea who Beatrice was either.)


Dave has a very dignified older friend who has never, ever used bad language but he recently said:


"Dave, getting old is the pits!"


But he didn't say pits.








***

Leaving the Land of 10,000 Weather Changes

I'm packing up and heading home to Florida tomorrow. With a few days stopover in Atlanta. Hard to know what to pack, what to mail, and what to wear.

When I board the plane in the morning the weather will be in the 50s. When I get off it will be in the 90s. The weather inside the plane could be either of these.

The last couple of days I've been teased a bit about the crazy people in Florida. I have to remind these Minnesotans that if it wasn't for the crazy and bizarre folks (not to mention the serial killers) in Florida and California, this would be a boring country indeed.

For instance, I like to tell Dave that I don't believe there really is an Iowa. It's never in the news.

Last summer Florida was never out of my mind due to the daily Casey Anthony news fix.

Folks here in Minnesota are way more reserved. And blond. And Lutheran. Dave has a neighbor whom I really care for. We've had many conversations. Some of them funny. But I don't think I've ever seen her laugh. However, she's a good and nice person.

This morning the guys at Breugger's wouldn't let me pay for my coffee and bagel because it was my last breakfast for a while.

Now that's Minnesota Nice!


***

Kierkegaard Was Not a Fun Guy

Last Sunday we visited a nearby Congregational church because some friends told us they had great a new minister.

He preached on Soren Kierkegaard.

Oh, brother. Didn't see that coming. In the minister's defense, he said that since it was Labor Day Sunday he thought nobody would show up so he might as well preach on Kierkegaard.

Soren Kierkegaard was an 1800s writer, philosopher and theologian. He was also kind of negative. (Sort of like SNL's Debbie Downer.) As the minister said, "He dedicated himself to making the Christian life harder."

But he was one of the world greatest thinkers and we have much to thank him for even though he wrote books like "The Concept of Dread."

But I really liked Sunday's sermon, mainly because, while making an excellent theological point, the minister teased Kierkegaard. I love teasing Kierkegaard.

Here is one of his quotes:

I see it all perfectly;...there are two possible solutions...do it or do not do it. You will regret both.

Kierkegaard, along with another not fun guy named Nietzsche, was the father of existentialism. Their definition of existentialism was:

The focus of philosophical thought should be to deal with the conditions of existence of the individual persons and their emotions, actions, responsibilities and thoughts.

But, as you may remember, I have a better explanation:

Existentialism

I and thou,
Here and now,
Wow!


***

Town Talk Diner

Do you ever watch Diners, Drive-ins and Dives? I watched it a few weeks ago when Guy visited The Town Talk Diner here in Minneapolis. But, better yet, Dave's daughter watched it too and then sent us a gift certificate. I couldn't wait. They have gourmet comfort food.

We went on Friday. We'd tried to go before but it's open only at odd times - by that I mean it's open only at night.

We rolled in at about 4:30 PM.

Yes, people were there at that time. Not only that but a woman was filming for Google.

We didn't order what they showed on TV like the waffles with chicken or the fried pickles or the cocktail that starts with a 5 oz. beaker of bacon fat.

Dave had an egg sandwich - consisting of two fried eggs on large slices of sourdough toast with avocado, cheese, ham, tomatoes, bacon, and some sort of cream sauce.

That came with garlic, parsley fries that had been soaked in vinegar.

I ordered something else.

I don't want to talk about it.

***

Minnesota State Fair

Yesterday we went to the fair. In it's 8th day, it's had over one million visitors so far. It was my first time to attend a state fair since I was a child in Indianapolis. I guess state fairs are a mid-west thing. Here are some highlights.


Getting there - Easy as pie. We drove to the University of Minnesota campus, parked for free, and boarded a bus that dropped us at the entrance.

Miracle of Birth Exhibit - All kinds of animal moms in the animal Labor and Delivery. We saw brand new pigs, calves and lambs and we watched lots of chicks and ducks poking out of their shells.


Fine Arts - It was more like "fun arts & crafts." But I liked it.


Rides - We rode the sky flyer back and forth across the entire fair. Great vantage point.

Food - Anything you could possibly imagine that could be dipped in chocolate and deep fried - was! The most popular food was deep fried cheese curds. I loved seeing people walk around with pork chops on a stick. I did read an article last week saying that the Texas fair had outdone us because they've perfected deep fried beer on a stick. They've managed to inject beer into a pretzel, dip it in chocolate and deep fry it. When you bite down, warm beer squirts out.

Dave and I ate.....foot long hot dogs and roasted ears of corn.


Observations - First, as I've mentioned before, Minneapolis is culturally diverse. Whenever we go out I see all kinds of people including women in burkas and lots of ethnic groups.

The fair isn't like that. It's middle class, white America. I did see an old man wearing a tee shirt that said "AN OLD LUTHERAN" across the front. Below that was a picture of Martin Luther. I thought that was cool.


And I did see one African American Muslim. It was Minnesota Congressman Keith Ellison. He was speaking at the radio station and being given a hard time by some farmers.











***

Cairo Time

A long time ago I was in the middle east with my husband, Ken. He went from Tel Aviv to Cairo for further study. I went from Tel Aviv to home to take care of the kids.


Since then I've wanted to see Cairo.

Dave and I just experienced the next best thing. We saw the new movie "Cairo Time." It stars the queen of indie films, Patricia Clarkson. A title she deserves. She's smart (a graduate of both Fordham and Yale,) and 50 years old. She doesn't talk much when she does she whispers. She mostly communicates with body language and facial expressions. I guess we'd call that acting.

But the real star of the movie is Cairo. 18 million people strong, the city is full of horrendous poverty - and traffic, as well as the beauty that can be found only in ancient cities.

There's a bit of a love story - but it's relatively pure. Patrica's character, Juliette, falls for her guide, a former employee of her husband's who's there to assist her when her husband is detained at the Gaza Strip. The only real betrayal is seeing the pyramids with this guy.


However, when he touches her back as he guides her through traffic, we know!

But I think the love story is just a device to tell us more about Cairo.

For instance, when she visits him at his coffee shop he tells her it's a men's coffee shop.

"Where do the women get their coffee?"

"Not here."

We're constantly reminded that these people are from two very different cultures, as well as different parts of the world.

If you want to enjoy the exquisite beauty of Cairo without the fear of being out on the streets, the unrelenting heat and humidity and having to cover your head in public - see this movie instead.

But I'd still like to go to Cairo.

***

Did My Kids Write This?

This morning's "Ask Amy" column is titled: "Mom refuses to cook. Why?"

It seems this person's 68 year old mother has given up cooking. She and dad go out to eat once or twice a day..."usually to a fast food joint."

OK, I'm thinkin' Amy is really going to set this person straight.

But no.

Amy's assessment: "I agree this is alarming and unhealthy."

Amy examines the possible reasons for this "behavior." Mom could be going blind and can't see the stove. Appliances don't work. Are there falling hazards? (68 year old are notoriously clumsy.) Mom could be suffering from dementia.

And then Amy offers some helpful suggestions: Call the Office on Aging, call Meals on Wheels, hire a housekeeper.

Yesterday, after Dave played 18 holes of golf, we went to Burger John's, sat outside and ate burgers, fixin's and coleslaw. Yum, yum.

***

Our Tourist Day

Since Dave and I live in opposite ends of the country we sometimes have a "tourist day."

Yesterday we had a fun tourist day in St Paul. Here's what we did and what I would recommend you do if you ever find yourself with just few hours in St. Paul, Minnesota.

Summit Avenue - First, we drove down this grand old street with grand old mansions.

St Paul Cathedral - This house of worship rivals any cathedral in Europe in terms of beauty and opulence, not to mention size. We've been there before but it's always moving to walk around inside and sit in the pews for a while.

State Capitol - We drove downtown, parked the car and walked a mile or so to the state capital. It's set on several acres of lovely grounds. While we were inside poking around a woman in a bright yellow jacket stopped me. We engaged in conversation. I was excited! It was Margaret Anderson Kelliher, Speaker of the House and the Democratic endorsed candidate for Governor of Minnesota. (She lost last week by a hair to former senator Mark Dayton.)

Mickey's Diner - On the walk back downtown we came upon this famous diner so we stopped in. Dave had a root beer float. We discussed famous people who've eaten there including all the stars of the movie "A Prairie Home Companion" (we know this because we saw them eating at Mickey's at the end of the movie) plus other stars like former governor Jesse Ventura, John Stewart and The Beach Boys.

All in all, another fun day.

***

Get Low

As you know, I've been doing some interesting reading and researching this summer about what heaven's like. What have I learned? Almost nothing.

And I plan to share this knowledge with my fantastic, smart Sunday school class when I get back to my Florida home.

One of the reasons we're thinking more about ultimate things is that so many of us are baby boomers or older and it's dawned on us that time is getting away from us.

On Friday afternoon Dave and I saw the movie "Get Low" with Robert Duvall playing a crotchety old hermit who's finally ready to face his past after closing himself off for 40 years.

This is a small, quiet (no car chases) independent movie. At 4:00 PM the theater it was 2/3 full. The vast majority of the audience was over 60 years old. That tells us something.

I loved this movie. So did Dave. I read somewhere that Duvall was too young to play this part but he'll be 80 this year. He was just right. All of the main actors, Bill Murray, Lucas Black, Sissy Spacek and the great Bill Cobbs were excellent.

If you want to see a visually beautiful, funny/sad movie about a man approaching death who's full of love, loss and sadness but riddled with guilt and seeking forgiveness...

See this one.


***

But Are You Good Looking Enough?

There's a big brouhaha going on right now about a video put out by some Minnesota Republicans depicting GOP women as beautiful and Democratic women as - not so much. Apparently it shows photos of gorgeous Republican female politicians with Tom Jones singing "She's a Lady" and terrible photos of female Dems with the music "Who Let the Dogs Out?"


While some people on both sides think it's funny it's mostly caused an uproar. The guy who made the video was quoted as saying "...it was unfortunate to relearn that the other side is severely lacking a sense of humor."


I think it's demeaning to all concerned. Especially Republican women who want to be taken seriously as political leaders.


We all enjoy looking at beautiful people. Those of us who remember John and Jacqueline Kennedy during the days of Camelot can attest to that.


But if we look at all of our presidents, past and present, it's pretty clear that we Americans didn't let looks influence our choices.


Richard Nixon and Lyndon Johnson come to mind.


If we want to get sexist and superficial we could concentrate on guys like John Edwards. I don't think that will happen. Mitt Romney might get the Republican nomination but I'm absolutely certain it won't be because he's a gorgeous man. We Americans are too smart to think that way.



If either men or women, whatever party, have to use looks and sex appeal to get elected, what does that say about all of us?

***

The Apostles

The Apostle Islands are located on Lake Superior, off the Bayfield peninsula in northern Wisconsin.

Why are they called "Apostles?" I don't know. There are 22 of them.

Dave and I were in Bayfield for a few days last week. I love going places I've never been before. Dave's been going for many years. We visited with (his) old friends and walked all over the little fishing village.

We took the boat to Madeline Island, the biggest of the Apostles. Why is it called "Madeline." Why isn't it called "John" or "Peter?"

I don't know.


***

Post Cards

A couple of postings ago I listed the "reality" for 18 year olds. One of the things I didn't mention was - they don't e-mail. Too slow.

Reading that reminded me of when I was a very little girl spending summers on a farm in southern Indiana. Before they had telephones in that remote area people used post cards for their "instant" communication.

If you wanted the neighbors to come for supper or the threshers to meet at a certain time you sent a post card. Most times the mailman didn't even go through the system, he just delivered it from one neighbor to another. (I realize that must have been breaking a federal law.)

Today, those old post cards can be found from time to time in antique stores around the country. Very nostalgic.

I'm not suggesting we need to go back to snail mail. But for now, e-mail is as fast as I want to go.


***

How Many Ears of Corn on Each Stock?

It's corn on the cob eating season. Minnesota has great corn. Who knew? I thought it all came from Zellwood.

Dave and I sometimes buy two ears of corn from the vegetable stand, bring it home, boil it up and eat it. For a snack. Yum, yum.

Dave has a really smart close friend of forty some years, who is, fortunately, now my friend as well.

How smart is he? There's a legend about him that he can play bridge and do the New York Times crossword at the same time!

A while back, on the golf course, this smart friend told Dave that a corn stock produces only one ear of corn.

What? Really? When little kids draw a corn stock they usually add about five ears. But that's not real proof so I felt it was my duty to do some actual research. Turns out it's not easy info to come by. However, I did find the answer so when I saw this friend at a delightful dinner party last night I felt obligated to share my findings.

He took it well.

From Wiki Answers:

Most sweet corn varieties will produce 2 - 4 ears per stalk, and one variety called a "six-shooter" produces 6 ears per stock.

However,

Genetically uniform field corn usually has only a single ear per stock.

So there you go.

***

Generation Gap

My wise friend Art uses this quote sometimes: "When an old person dies it's like a library has burned down."

It's that time of year when we get the list of what reality is like for the current crop of kids going off to college. It's always sobering for us older folks to see how different their perception of our world is from ours. Here is a small sampling:

Maps - can't read one (and why would you?)

Watches - don't wear them

Clint Eastwood - an old, sensitive movie director

Green Giant - Shrek

Tattoos - have always been popular and main stream

Babies - have always had Social Security numbers

McDonald's - has always been in China

Flat Screen TV - has always been around

Telephones with cords - never seen one

Library card catalogues - never used one

Women - have always outnumbered men in college

Cursive writing - Why?

What's In A Name?

Were you named after somebody? Was somebody named after you? Either way, it can be daunting. Either way, we want to live up to it.


Like George Washington Carver. He lived up to it.


Or the thousands of Methodists named John Wesley. (Let's just forget about John Wesley Hardin, that mass murderer in Texas.)


How about being named after a pop star or a TV character?


I just read that the new popular names for babies are from the "Twilight" series. Bella (of course) but also Cullen, Jasper, Alice and Emmett.


But we have a history of naming our babies after beautiful supernatural young women. Years ago Samantha from "Bewitched" was a big baby name. Then, when Samantha had a good witch baby, the name Tabitha was popular.


But pop culture characters come and go. For instance, the only Emmett I know was that "fix it" guy from Mayberry. He seemed OK but I wouldn't name my baby after him.








***

Value Systems

Outside the arena of sports and celebrity, some of the things that make a guy a real catch are good looking, great body, makes a ton of money, enjoys partying and is super confident. He (Alex Rodriguez) has all those attributes. (Alex Bhattacharji, Details Magazine- Explaining how Rodriguez' attracts so many movie star girl friends - or, as he calls them, "A-list Hotties.")

Seriously? This is what turns these women on?

Here's a example of what turns me on:

A couple of weekends ago some guys came to work on the outside of the house. I didn't even think about making lunch plans because I knew Dave would want to prepare lunch for the guys. Yes, Dave prepares lunch for workmen he's never seen before. He even made an extra trip to the store for BBQ chips because he didn't think they'd like my girly baked potato chips.

When I tell him he has a Servant's heart, he says, "This is just what people do."

I'll bet A-Rod doesn't.


***

Exclusive Club

Forty plus years ago, when we were in seminary and living in a farm community in Northeast Georgia, I was impressed by two things:

1. I thought I knew what it meant to be poor but I had never seen generational, widespread poverty like we experienced there.

2. I was constantly blown away by the generosity of these impoverished people.

Later on, we would see this over and over again on mission trips. The saying "You can't out give the poor" is true.

But this week it was exciting to read some more about "The 50 Percent Club." Started by Bill Gates and Warren Buffett, the requirements are that you have to be really rich and you have to give away half your money.

So far, 40 billionaires have signed on. Most of them are Californians but the only name I recognized there is George Lucus. (What's up with all those braggy movie stars not signing on.)

This concept (giving away half your wealth) isn't new. I'm happy to say I know people who've done it for years -some of them I love very much.

We all know that giving does great things for the giver so I'm sure these billionaires will reap intangible rewards. They have my respect and gratitude so that must make them feel good.

But I still believe "You can't out give the poor."


***

Inception

When I want you in my arms,
When I want you and all your charms,
Whenever I want you, all I have to do is dream,
Dream, dream, dream...

We all know that the movie "Inception" is about dreams. But not about the kind the Everly Brothers used to sing.

It's more like the dream you had the night you bought a pizza with pepperoni and anchovies and nobody else would eat it so you ate it all by yourself along with a glass of red wine and a couple of diet cokes and then after laying awake and moaning until 4:A.M. you took half an Ambien.

Not that I've ever done that!

"Inception" is a complicated movie about infiltrating people's deepest dreams thereby controlling their behavior.

It's not my kind of movie but I'm way in the minority. All of the critics love it and it's been #1 at the box office every weekend since it's release.

But if you're like me and you get bored with 20 minute sequences of no dialogue but just weird, manic (but sometimes beautiful) things blowing up, here are some alternative things to think about:

• Tom Berenger has all at once become heavy and middle-aged but he still has those dreamy blue eyes.
• Michael Cain was middle aged when he made "Alfie" in the 60s and now, 50 years later, he's still making a couple of movies a year - and he looks about the same.
• Ellen Page still looks like Juno.
• It's fun to see that kid from "Third Rock from the Sun," (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) transition into a fine and interesting looking adult actor.
• What's up with Leonardo DiCaprio constantly loosing his wife and kids in his movies?

Don't worry about not understanding "Inception." The basic plot is pretty easy. But I wish there had been a diagram of a helix on the side of the screen with a blinking light for every time they switched dream layers.

Just a suggestion.

***

Calcium - Bad!

Don't you just hate it when the medical community reverses itself and says that what they told you to do to be more healthy - will actually kill you?



New testing now tells us that taking calcium supplements will greatly increase your chances of having a heart attack or stroke.



Since I'm an older, small boned, health conscious woman you could call me the Calcium Supplement Queen.



Daily, I take 750 mgs in pill form, plus that yummy VIACTIV Milk Chocolate Soft Chew. (Wonder how this new info will affect their stock.)



It's a miracle that I haven't clutched my chest and keeled over in a small-boned, calcium rich heap.



I'm hoping we'll someday we'll get this report:



Fruits & veggies - Bad. French fries - Good.

***

The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo - The Movie

I know you think I'm obsessed with this Stieg Larsson Trilogy. But I never wanted to see the movie. It was playing in Maitland at the Enzian (art theater) before we left Florida in May.

But I gave up on foreign movies with sub-titles a few years ago. Besides, this movie is two and a half hours long. As you know, that's an hour over my limit.

I thought I could wait until the Hollywood version comes out in 2011 staring Daniel Craig. Daniel Craig??

But then Dave's daughter was here over the weekend and the two of them wanted to see this Swedish version which is now showing at the discount theater. So I went with them.

OK, I loved the movie. It was beautifully filmed. The sub-titles weren't a problem. I wish it had been even longer.

We're going to see the Swedish version of the next in the trilogy, "The Girl Who Played with Fire," this weekend.

OK, maybe I am obsessed.


***

Depends

I didn't see the Saturday Night Live with Betty White that aired a few weeks ago but I did see several clips. In one skit she's a police captain. When somebody asks her who she thinks committed the crime she looks at the camera and says:

It's like my underwear: "Depends."

Right now I'm reading "Heaven - Our Enduring Fascination with the Afterlife." It's written by Lisa Miller who is the religion writer for Newsweek. So she isn't writing as a theologian. She's writing as a journalist and researcher.

Did the ancient Jews believe in heaven? That's always been a controversy. Lisa, after much delving into the Torah and after many discussions with great minds in that area says, essentially, no, they did not believe in heaven.

But then she says, wait, two men, Enoch and Elijah, went to heaven! In Genesis it says, "And Enoch walked with God; then he was no more, for God took him."

And most of us know the story of Elijah from the book of Kings. Elijah is walking along with his disciple Elisha (man, I used to get those two mixed up) when a whirlwind takes him up to heaven in a chariot of fire.

So, did the ancient scriptures give us a glimpse of heaven or not?

I guess it ...

Depends!


***

Can Old Ladies Change?

This question may not be of interest to you, but it is to me. This spring I read the Pulitzer Prize winning book, "Olive Kitteridge" by Elizabeth Strout.

Olive is some character. She's a decent but terrorizing elementary school teacher, a domineering wife and mom, a scary enemy and scarier friend.

The book is made up of 13 separate stories about the people in the little town of Crosby, Maine. Olive pops in and out of the stories. Sometimes the main character - sometimes a passerby.

I know a few women like Olive. Strong life forces who have no idea of the wreckage they leave behind. Or, as their families might say, don't care about or even sometimes seem to enjoy the wreckage they create.

The astonishing part of the book is that, in the last chapter, when Olive is 74 big, sagging years old, she finally gets a deeper understanding of herself through, of all things, a love affair.

But, prior to that she gets some clues via a visit to see her son who hasn't had anything to do with her in many years.

Here's a bit of dialogue:

The son speaking: "You say you're going to leave and then accuse me of kicking you out. In the past that would make me feel terrible but I'm not going to feel terrible now. Because this is not my doing. You just don't seem to notice that your actions bring reactions."

"I just don't want to put up with it anymore."

"You have a bad temper. At least I think it's a temper. I don't really know what it is."

"I'm not going to be ruled by my fear of you, mom"

And then Olive thinks something that is her first big insight into her long unhappy life.

Fear of her? How could anyone be afraid of her? She was the one who was afraid!

Here's what I know. We're all afraid. I would hope that a couple of the old women I know who seem to operate somewhat like Olive Kitteridge would gain enough self understanding to mend relationships with the people the love before it's too late.

It's possible. I totally believe in the changed life.

***