Thoughts on Compromise

We're on the road - headed south.  Things are all tied up in Minnesota. 

We've seen some strange driving the last couple of days.  My old friend, Vernon, used to say that the only way to drive safely was Ten-and-Two.  I guess we all could accept a compromise between that and the folks who seem to be driving with their knees while texting.

The most disturbing bumper sticker I saw today was "My Other Auto is a .45."

As  to what's going on in Washington right now, I saw a political cartoon this morning in the Indianapolis Star.  Malia and Sasha, with their math and economic school books under their arms, are presenting their dad with their version of  a debt reduction plan.

I think they could do it and I could do it too.  So could you.  I would, basically, ask every government agency to lower their budgets by 4%.  And do it by cutting waste.  And I'd ask that the Richy Riches (those netting over one million dollars a year) have a tax increase of 3%. 

That would save us 14 trillion dollars.

OK,  I made up that number but I think the plan would work.

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Life as a House

The 2002 movie, "Life as a House" is one of my favorite movies of all time and my very favorite Kevin Kline movie. 

 In it the Kline character hates his life.  Then he's diagnosed with terminal cancer on the same day he's fired from his job. 

 This turns out to be the best day of his life.  He decides to build a house with his druggie 16 year old son and in the process he builds a happy life, including reconciliation with his family and friends.  Yes, the house is a metaphor for his life.

I used parts of this powerful movie as a discuss starter several times in my work.

In these waining days before leaving Dave's house in which he's lived his entire adult life, I've thought a lot about the movie.  This house holds happy memories for Dave and his family and friends.  The house was a part of every milestone. I hope the young couple who will move in next week will find a lifetime of happiness in this Life as a House.

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Work is Fun

The other day we had breakfast at a new restaurant called Mill Valley Kitchen.  Our waitperson was as cute as she could be.  She has a new  bachelor's degree in psychology but she can't do anything with it.  I asked her when she figured that out.  She laughed. 

But she doesn't want to work anyway.  She's living with her boyfriend and working just enough to get by.  She told us that she thinks people should be able to just play and have a good time when they're young and then work hard in their 60s and 70s.  What kind of psychology is that?

I've always thought young people - children, teens and adults - should work hard and play hard.  Why?  Because it helps us figure out who we are.  And it's empowering. 

OK, I'll give babies a pass but even a toddler can bring mom a diaper or assist grandma with the remote. 

Yesterday Dave's son was telling us about his first after school job washing dishes in a restaurant.  He was 14.  He said that, once he got the hang of it, he felt good about being part of a team and doing his share.

The young lady we saw at Mill Valley Kitchen is fooling herself if she thinks she will like working hard in her 60s and 70s, especially if she's working in a restaurant at that age.

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What Do You Believe and Why?

Dave just read me a letter that he received from his dad when he was a teenager.  Most of the letter, sent from Malaysia where his dad was serving as a missionary, was admonishing Dave for playing pool with his friends. 

If you ever saw "The Music Man" you know how middle America felt back then about the presence of a pool hall in their communities.

My mother-in-law had a strange belief that men don't eat mayonnaise. 

For years my husband, Ken, refused to let our daughters have their ears pieced.  "Only bad girls have their ears pierced."

In a 2009 Harris poll, 45 % of the people polled believed in Darwin's Theory of Evolution.  42 % believed in ghosts. 

What do you believe and (more importantly) why?

The founding publisher of Skeptic Magazine, Michael Shermer, has written a new book called "The Believing Brain."  His premise is that we form our beliefs for a variety of subjective, personal, emotional and psychological reasons and then selectively filter data to reinforce rather than refute.

I haven't read all of the book but even though I disagree with some of what he says he makes me think.  And what I think is that it's important to be able to articulate our beliefs.  But I think it's even more important to articulate why we have them.  And then be willing to listen to, and respect other's ideas. 

Michael Shermer was on the Corbert Report the other night.  Corbert suggested that we're even more sure of our beliefs if they rhyme.

If the glove don't fit, you must acquit.


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Shingles

A while back I saw a creepy cartoon.  A doctor is examining Pinocchio who's sitting on the exam table with roofing shingles growing out of his back.  The doctor says "Yeah, that's a bad case of shingles."

Shingles aren't funny.  You get horrible blisters on various parts of your body, and sometimes your face.  The pain is extreme and lasts for weeks - or months.  One in three people who've had chicken pox at any time of their lives will get shingles.  Over half of the people who get shingles are over 60 years old.

Since the vaccine came out a few years ago it's been expensive ($260) and hard to get.  My doctor doesn't have any.   Walgreen's in Florida has it but you have to find a Walgreen's with a clinic, make an appointment, etc, etc.

Medicare Part B doesn't cover the vaccine.  Medicare Part D (drug coverage) does.

A couple of weeks ago, on a Friday, I heard about an old friend who died from complications from shingles. What a horrible way to go.  I started thinking about how I must find a way to get the vaccine.

The very next day we were riding down a street in St. Paul, MN.  I saw a sign in front of a Walgreen's that read "Shingles Shots Today."  I yelled, "Stop the car." 

We were in and out in 10 minutes.  No clinic.  The pharmacy intern gave me the shot.  I paid $25.00.  I have no idea if my insurance covers the rest, but I'm sure I'll find out.  


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The Shutdown - Day 13

It's been almost two weeks since the Minnesota government shut down.  And, until today, I didn't believe there was much hope for a comeback any time soon since the Republican house and the Democratic governor have not been able to see eye to eye on much of anything.

So far, none of the sad stories have moved them...

- Not the thousands of poor and disabled folks whose funds have dried up...

- Not the government workers who've had to postpone house loans, college tuition and everything else other than basic necessities due to no income.  (By the way, the legislators are still paying themselves.)

- Not the new adoptive parents camped out  in a motel room in Wisconsin with a two week old baby because they can't get the legal papers signed to bring him home to Minnesota,

- Not the closing of the rest stops on the highways so you can't stop at a place like Goose Creek Rest Area (but I guess if you were truly desperate you could just use Goose Creek.)

But the headlines in today's paper tell us that hundreds of bars and restaurants in Minnesota are running out of alcohol because their state issued purchasing cards need to be renewed.  Maybe this is the impetus these lawmakers need to turn the corner in what so far could be called anything but negotiating.

I heard a guy with the Minnesota Licensed Beverage Association being interviewed on the radio this morning.  The host asked how serious this issue really is.  The guy answered,

We could run out of beer this weekend.

Yes, it's that serious!


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War Stories

I was recently privileged to read an autobiography that my friend translated for her late father.  He was an artist in Estonia and Germany during the second world war.  The man's adventures helped me remember that, in war, not every person on one side is evil and every person the other other is angelic.  Wars aren't like that.  Life isn't like that.

Reading the story reminded me of one about my own dad.  He was also an artist but lived his entire life in Indiana and struggled to make a living as a dry cleaner who did art on the side.

During WW II my dad ran the laundry and dry cleaners at Fort Benjamin Harrison in Lawrence, Indiana, just outside Indianapolis.  At that time there were hundreds of German and Italian POWs working at the Fort.  Some of them worked in the laundry.  My dad became good friends with a German POW named Gunther. 

After the war Gunther was sent back to Germany.  Later on my dad sponsored him to immigrate back to the United States.  Looking back, I'm amazed that he went through all of the steps to get this accomplished.  

Gunther did return and worked again with my dad at Belleview Cleaners in Indianapolis.  (This was before my dad opened his own dry cleaners in the inner city that he named Fine Art Cleaners where he displayed his oil paintings in the window.)

Gunther visited our house many times over the years.  One day he brought a woman by for us to meet.  He eventuality married her.

I vaguely remember the day we picked up Gunther at the bus station when he first returned to the states.  He hugged my dad so hard that he cracked a rib. 


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If We Knew We Couldn't Take It

Have you ever wanted to know the future?  I haven't.  Sometimes when we're attending weddings Dave will say, "It's a good thing they don't know what lies before them."  He's not being negative.  It's just that, if we knew, we'd worry about the bad stuff and that would keep us from enjoying the good.

Because life is a combination of joy and sorrow and all that lies in between. 

I just recently came into possession of this photo of my mother.  She was a very young teenager at the time.

She looks happy and mischievous.  What's that furry thing she's wearing?  What is she thinking?

We know this:  She became a writer, married, had children and died at a young age. 

It's a good thing she didn't know all of this when the photo was taken. 

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Yankee Doodle Dandy

Yes, I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy, a Yankee Doodle do or die...

We watched this movie on TCM last night.  I've seen it many times, Dave had never seen it.  I love the 4th of July.  I love the Boston Pops.  I love my country.  I always feel kind of sappy about it on the 4th - and at other times as well. 

But I part ways with folks who want to be isolationists.  We live in a global village.  There a other beautiful countries and folks who love living there.  We're all in this thing together.  I have no interest in changing the name for French fries or putting a "Love It or Leave It" sticker on anybody who points out our imperfections.

I'm currently living in a state where the government has shut down.  We have some issues

One of my favorite hymns is "This Is My Song."  Here are a couple of stanzas.

This is my song, O God of all the nations,
a song of peace for lands afar and mine;

this is my home, the country where my heart is;

here are my hopes, my dreams, my holy shrine:

but other hearts in other lands are beating

with hopes and dreams as true and high as mine.


My country's skies are bluer than the ocean,

and sunlight beams on cloverleaf and pine;

but other lands have sunlight too, and clover,

and skies are everywhere as blue as mine:

O hear my song, thou God of all the nations,

a song of peace for their land and for mine.

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Larry Crowne

Yes, we saw this movie.  We wanted to see "Tree of Life" but it's gone already. 

Yes, everything you've read about Larry Crowne is true.  It's slow, silly and predictable.

No, it's not about a motorcycle gang.  They have motor scooters!  And don't worry, they do wear helmets.  This photo is of a little fantasy that runs during the credits.  The seriousness of the movie is summed up by Julie Roberts looking directly at the camera and mouthing "Hi mom!"

I was wondering how it ever got made but then remembered that it's starred in, written, directed and produced (read that "paid for") by Tom Hanks.

But here's the thing.  I kinda liked it.  I've often thought of Tom Hanks as a modern day Jimmy Stewart.  A really good, squeaky clean guy on and off the screen.  That's what he is in this movie that he starred in, wrote, directed and paid for. 

Hanks plays a middle aged man (which is what he is in real life at age 53) who gets laid off and, desperate, enrolls in college.  Yeah, that makes sense.

Don't worry.  There's no suspense or stress in the movie.  Even when the motor scooter gang breaks into his house it's merely to Feng Shui it. 

I don't know if this is a movie for grown ups - but it is a movie made by grown ups. 

Tom Hanks looks old and scraggly but good.
Julia Roberts looks every bit her age (whatever that is) but good.

Cedric the Entertainer looks good and is very entertaining.

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Saying Goodbye

I like routine.  I'm sure some of that comes from living much of my life in chaos.  The other morning I got up, made myself a cup of tea, fetched the paper and headed into the living room to sit in my favorite chair.  Only it wasn't there.  We'd sold it the day before to an art dealer.  I had to improvise and sit on the couch. 

It will be leaving soon.

David's house of 47 years is sold and, if all goes well, the closing will be on July 28th.  A life time of memories is slipping away.  The house was purchased by a young couple, some art work and valuables have gone to David's children, and a few things will go to the condo in Florida.  The rest is up for grabs. Every day is emotional as David pours through letters and photos.  Every day is emotional as a piece of furniture or art work goes out the door.  Little by little he's letting it go.

This is a spiritual experience for both of us.

The fat lady hasn't sung yet but she's in the wings, gargling with lemon juice. 



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