Saturday, November 29, 2014

Where Can We Find a Coyote?



When I read this Garfield strip this week I thought Odie's grandma probably lives in Orlando!  We have Coyotes.  They're all over the place.

They don't bother humans but they do eat our house cats and this gets on our nerves.  Naturalists tell us to keep our cats inside and leave the coyotes alone but that's hard to swallow.

We Central Floridans also have wolves and foxes running around our urban areas.  But no cougars.  Unless you count those older women who date younger men.

We have plenty of those.
Central Florida Coyote in the Back Yard


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Thursday, November 27, 2014

Thanks for My Promised Land


Fifty years ago  I lived on South West 1st Court, in Plantation,  Florida,  just west of Fort Lauderdale.   The address is important because there wasn't much west of 1st Court.  Further out was swamp land. Some folks were saying it wasn't livable, that if you built a house out there, it would sink.  Others were saying it's "The Promised Land."

And then one day the city of Plantation actually had a land grab.  Hundreds of people showed up to race for free lots.  You just had to grab the flag in the middle and it was yours!   We didn't participate because that wasn't the kind of Promised Land we were looking for.

My Promise Land has always been about relationships.   

One of my ministers, Reverend Jayne, preached a powerful sermon this Thanksgiving morning.   She talked about "The Promised Land."  Mostly about how difficult it was and is to get and to keep.

It was true for the Israelites and it's true for us.

Ferguson
Today, I'm thankful that, in some ways, I've reached my  personal Promised Land.  I have this great life with Dave and our abundant friends and family and  I still have important work to do.  

The work is hard because relationships are hard.  But, of course, there is ultimately the Promised Land.

When Jayne gave members of the congregation the opportunity to name what they're most grateful for today, two men named their wives.

That was my Dave and Jim Armstrong.  How cool is that?


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Sunday, November 23, 2014

Winnie the Pooh Causes International Incident


"If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you."  -  Quoted from the not too bright but extremely loving Winnie the Pooh

I love having readers all over the world because I occasionally have the opportunity to be an international problem solver.

You've probably already read about how officials of the small town of Tuszyn, Poland have been meeting to decide a new patron for a Children's playground.

 When several people suggested "Winnie the Pooh,"  who, according to his song, is a "willy, nilly silly old bear," officials became concerned and conducted an investigation.  Why?

Because everybody knows Pooh doesn't wear pants.  They concluded that he was "a hermaphroditic, nudist bear created by a disturbed old man."  By the way, A. A. Milne was 44 years old when he began writing about the world's most lovable bear.  (You may like Teddy better, but he too is pantless. )

Who else can they choose for the children's playground?  There's Daffy Duck and Donald Duck and Bugs Bunny and several other beloved stuffed animals/cartoon characters - but none of them wear pants. 

OK.  Here's my offering.  Go with The Pillsbury Dough Boy.  Most everybody in America knows that he was recently given a tiny pair of blue jeans by a grateful roll loving family.  I love that grandma says "it's about time!"  Maybe she's from Poland.  


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Friday, November 21, 2014

Lost in Shangri-La

In the last couple of weeks I've read two books depicting important, sensational (at the time,) events in our history that I did not know existed.  The first was The Orphan Train.  It takes place in the late 1800s to around 1920 when trains  took orphans from the streets of New York and shipped them to farms and factories in the Mid West.  Not just a few, but over 200,000 children.

And now I've just finished reading Lost in Shangri-La by Mitchell Zuckoff.  This is a true story about two soldiers and a WAC who were trapped in the jungle in New Guinea in 1944 - and their incredible rescue.

The woman was beautiful.  They were badly injured in an airplane crash; they encountered natives who were still living in the stone age, and all kinds of folks risked their lives to save them.

When they finally arrived back in the United States they were world famous, especially Margaret Hastings.

Margaret and Native Children
I loved the two Filipino medics who volunteered to risk their own lives by parachuting into the jungle and then hacking their way - for days - to the spot where the three were stranded.  If not for the medics, two of them would have died at that time.  Yes, Margaret was a dame with great gams but those gams were badly burned and full of gangrene.

I loved the interaction with the natives.  Natives who were primitive to the extreme but complex.  Yes they were cannibals.  Yes they went to war just for fun. - but they were happy.

Toward the end of the book I realized that I know a couple who spent 30 years in the mission field in that same area long after these events took place.  I hope the missionaries moving into that part of the world changed the native's lives for the better - but I'm not sure.

Lost in Shangri-La is a non fiction"man's book."  It has 58 pages of index notes in the back and lots of black and white photos.  Even I loved the detailed description of the eventual plane/glider set up they used to save the group.

An  exciting read, indeed!


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Wendy's

I've mentioned before that my choice for a "last meal" would be Wendy's chicken sandwich (the big fat one, not the one dollar special,) with fries that I would dip into a big ol' Frosty.

But, for the last few years I haven't been to Wendy's.  Not because it's not good for me but because Dave can't handle it.  He's not opposed to the food, it's the ambiance that gets him.  He can't handle the looks of the place.  Wendy's restaurants are pretty much beige, square boxes.  As an architect and artist, he is not amused.

So I 've been in solidarity with Dave and just hoped for a miracle some day so that I could have some decent chili.  And then the miracle happened.  A couple of months ago they tore down our neighborhood Wendy's.  What next?  This week the brand new architecturally interesting Wendy's was unveiled from behind the fence.  What a change.

We're going as soon as the crowd thins.


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Tuesday, November 18, 2014

A Circle of Wonen

Because we're living so much longer a new phenomena is taking place.  It's not all that unusual for women in their seventies to have mothers who are still living.  Two close friends (who are in their seventies) recently lost their moms.  One was in her late 90s and the other was 102.  It's been interesting to see how my friends have grieved over the loss of their moms that they've had for 70 plus years.

On our recent cruise we became friendly with a couple from south Florida.  Her mother had just died at age 99 and she was feeling some anger with her mom for "giving up" before she reached 100.   But we know that anger is a part of grieving.

We women need each other.  I lost my mom as a child but one of the best things in my life is women friends.  I don't know how I could cope without them.


One of these friends recently read the following to others of us.  I believe every word and I hope to have close women friends until the end.

A CIRCLE OF WOMEN

A circle of women can provide a container for emergence in a way that a woman alone, or even a one-to-one relationship cannot.  Intimate relationships and friendships can break or at least be greatly strained by life changes.  But from the combined wisdom and energy of a small group of women who are committed to hearing each other a continuity and trust can develop that can be relied on over the long term.  And, witnessing each person's direct knowing of her truth, we can be empowered to love our own.  


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Friday, November 14, 2014

Aruba

Aruba, Jamaica, ooh I wanna take ya
Bermuda, Bahama, come on pretty mama
Key Largo, Montego,
baby why don't we go,
Jamaica.  -  Kokomo, The Beach Boys

Three weeks ago we spent the day in the capitol city of Aruba....Oranjestad,

Some folks might see this as a dream come true, the epitome of a tropical paradise of beaches and shopping, but I live in the epitome of a tropical paradise of beaches and shopping so I'll say it was "pleasant."

Aruba is noted for luxury shopping.  But, as you know, I'm not a shopper.  We cruised around in "the big pink building."  More jewelry stores than I'd ever seen in one structure.

The big pink building
In one store I tried on a ring just for fun.  Dave said "let me buy it for you."  But I lovely replied:

"Are you crazy?!"

Later on we boarded our ship to sail to another paradise.  But Dave and I enjoyed the ship as much as the ports.  I love Holland America's nickname.

For the Newly Wed and the Nearly Dead.

Because Dave and I are kinda both.


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Thursday, November 13, 2014

Love Letter

My old friend, Jim McWhinnie, writes often on Facebook, sometimes several entries a day.  Not only in his Alzheimer's journal but about spiritual and other issues as well.  After all, he is a scholar and has important things to tell us while he can.

His journal entry today is beautiful but it will break your heart.

MY ALZHEIMER'S JOURNAL ... November 11, 2014
Last night, my wife included with dinner a bit of pudding ... a rare treat with my diabetes being the way it is. Without asking as to its kind, my first spoonful brought back to me the memory of how much I love butterscotch. Now, that may not seem so insightful, ... but I observed my taste buds remembered the wonder of butterscotch before my conscious mind could name it. I remembered the love ... before I remembered the words to name or describe it. This is something I need to keep central in my own sense of self and for my loved ones to remember ... in the years ahead I will remember many things though I may not know how to describe them or name. I will remember the experience of the reality; I will remember the feel of the moment.
Later last night, as my wife and I were snuggled on the couch, I thought to myself as I felt her presence so close to me ... "Someday I may not remember you as my wife ... but somehow I believe that I will fall in love with you all over again ... for I do remember how much I love the taste of butterscotch even when I do not remember its name. And I will remember how you, my dear, will feel to me."
So, I do believe ... we come to know the moments ... before we ever give those moments ... words.
jim mcwhinnie


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Birdman

The Birdman movie, staring Michael Keaton, opened a few days ago and, so far, the reviews have been "over the top" great.

I'll have to agree that Keaton and Edward Norton are fearless actors in Birdman.
It's a "sort of" black comedy about a "has been" movie actor rehearsing for a Broadway play which he's producing, directing and staring in.  The entire two hour movie is chaotic leading up to opening night;  which is, itself, chaotic and leads up to more chaos.  Don't look for any tied up loose ends.

Michael Keaton's character is Riggan Thomson.  But here's what a lot of the fuss is about:  Is Riggan Thomas Micheal Keaton?   Is Birdman Batman?

Riggan made a questionable decision  when he turned down Birdman 3 and, therefore, effectively ended his movie career.

Keaton (in real life) turned down Batman 4, and, therefore, effectively ended his movie career.

The movie Birdman is full of surrealism.  It's about insecure, self destructive actors.  It's unsettling.

Is Riggan Thomson crazy?  Or is he really Birdman?

Is Michael Keaton going to win an Academy Award for this performance and, therefore,  jump start his "real life" career?  I think so.

But it's too late for Riggan.


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Sunday, November 9, 2014

Temporary Art

 In the story and 1987 Academy Award winning foreign film Babette's Feast, Babette, after having won the  French lottery, spends every cent of it preparing the perfect meal for the people who have taken her in.  When asked why she would do such a thing, she replies:

Throughout the world sounds one long cry from the heart of the artist.  Give me the chance to do my very best.

I thought about Babette yesterday when, after having a lovely birthday lunch with Dave on Park Avenue in Winter Park, Florida, we wondered across the street to the park to see the "Sidewalk Art Show."  This was art work done in chalk directly on the sidewalk.  Each artist was to do his or her version of a famous piece of art. Directly on the sidewalk!

There were two time constraints:  One, the judging started at 4:00 PM, and two, the weather was cloudy.  Rain would destroy the work.

We were totally amazed at what these artists did, knowing all the while that it would be temporary.


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Friday, November 7, 2014

The Orphan Train

I just recently finished reading Christina Baker Kline's book about a little known but shameful part of our history.  The book is fiction but the events are true.

Between 1864 and 1929 "Orphan Trains" carried over 200,000 children from New York to the Midwest for the purpose of them being so called "adopted."  But most of them were used as free labor on farms and factories and elsewhere.  And, as you can imagine,  many were beaten, starved and sexually assaulted.

These were immigrant children, either orphaned or abandoned.  It's estimated that there were 10,000 abandoned children at any given time in New York City durning that period of time.  Those who were gathered and put on the train had experienced terrible trauma and had no idea where they were going.

Here's how it worked:  The train would pull into a station, the children would be lined up, babies to teenagers, and the townspeople would be there to inspect them; looking at their teeth, limbs and so on.  If they chose a child, they signed the papers right there and took the child.

Reading this so reminded me of the slave blocks in the south where they would bring Africans to the center of town to be inspected before being purchased.

Like slaves in the south, these children lost any sense of their on identities and backgrounds.  Siblings were often separated.  Names were changed.

We don't know much about this history because many train riders never talked about it.  We're in danger now of having the last of them die before we can know their stories.

I don't know about you but I can relate to these kids on several levels.  Especially the childhood feeling of never quite belonging.


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Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Lost in Walmart

Dave and I had a serious conversation this afternoon.  His friend, who lives across the country, has quit communicating with Dave.  The friend's wife answers Dave's e-mails and does the talking when Dave calls.

It's sad but it happens more and more to folks our age.  Whatever the health problem is, we want to hide it.  Especially if it has to do with dementia.

Dave and I renewed our commitment to be open and honest as we age.  Especially with each other.  And, as I've shared with you before, my personal hero in modeling how to do this is The Reverend Jim McWhinnie.

Here is one of Jim's latest Facebook journal entries:

MY ALZHEIMER'S JOURNAL ... November 2, 2014
We made a stop at Wal-Mart and once again my wife managed to get herself lost. At least, that is how we phrase my wanderings nowadays. It is a sequence of momentary lapses ... the first, I forget that I can get lost in complicated places with too many options of left or right or straight ahead. The second ... I forget to keep my wife in sight. The third ... I forget to locate my home base. The fourth, fifth, and sixth ... I forget the turns that I had just made ... for I have found that my only hope of recovering my orientation is to retrace my steps. But again ... it was my wife who got lost. But, in the end, I found her ... though she claims she found me.

I have so often used the preacher's cliche ... "I went searching for God until God found me." Poetically true, I suppose, but I do believe God keeps a pretty good eye on us ... and though we may panic because we can't see God ... God always knows where we are. 
I have always found comfort in knowing that God keeps his eye on the sparrow ... even sparrows who wander about Wal-mart ...and as I now stroll into the Long Good-bye ...this sparrow is finding that comforting awareness to be more and more something I cling to with all my heart and hope. So I now often pray ... "Lord, I sometimes wander off ... so before I wander too far away ... call my name and call it loud!"
jim mcwhinnie


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Monday, November 3, 2014

The Panama Canal, The Eighth Wonder of the World

Entering lock.
Ship's bow.  People lining decks.
The Panama Canal is a short cut from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean.  Prior to its completion in 1914, ships had to go all the way around the tip of South America.





Singapore container ship in lock
next door. 
So the Panama Canal, which is 100 years old this year, is a very big deal.

In the lock.
When I woke up very early on October 23rd, aboard the Zuiderdam, Dave was missing.  On the way up to get coffee I met two other women who's husbands were missing.
 But no worries.

Lake Gatun
Locks
Very early on that morning the bow of the ship was opened in order to give us a panoramic view of the Panama Canal.  As you may know, the Canal is made up of locks.  One reason for the locks is that the Pacific Ocean is several feet higher than the Atlantic.  We entered at Cristobal traveled around (man made) Gatun Lake, and then exited the Canal.
  I counted almost a thousand box car containers
on this ship leaving lock.

Some experience!

By the way, I did eventually find Dave.


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Sunday, November 2, 2014

Panama Canal Fun Facts


1.  The idea for a canal across Panama dates back to the 16th century. 

2.  The men behind the Suez Canal and Eiffel Tower were convicted in connection with failed effort to build a canal.

3.  America originally wanted to build a canal in Nicaragua, not Panama.

4.  More than 25,000 workers died during the canal's construction.

5.  Between 13,000 and 14,000 ships use the canal every year. 

6.  The United States transferred control of the canal to Panama in 1999. 

7.  The canal is being expanded to handle today's mega ships. 


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Saturday, November 1, 2014

Love in the Time of Ebola

A friend of mine stopped going on cruises a few years back due to the norovirus that sometimes hangs around cruise ships.  She seriously questioned our recent Panama Canal cruise decision in light of ebola.

Ebola?  Central American is further away from West Africa than Florida is.  But I don't think logic plays a role in her thinking.

Norovirus is an extremely common and highly contageous bug that gets passed around in schools, nursing homes and everywhere in between.  But, because cruise ships are required to report its presence, we hear more about it.   It causes nausea, vomiting and diarrhea and usually lasts two or three days.

On one of our earlier cruises there was an outbreak of norovirus.  Dave and I were impressed with how fast the ship went into action.  Every sick person was quarantined in their stateroom.  We passengers are not allowed to touch much of anything.  The library shut down, no salt and pepper shakers,  roll or cream and sugar passing in the dining room.  Hand sanitizing was (and still is) required and/or encouraged every place on the ship.

I've never been sick on a ship, other than seasick.  But I kind of understand that, with all that's going on in the world right now, some folks are paranoid.

Cruise Director Hammish
Our our recent cruise we had an excellent cruise director.  His name is Hammish.   These guys direct all of the activities (which are plenty) as well as serving as master of ceremonies and stand up comics.  One of Hammish's lines was, as we were pulling into a port, "If you're late boarding the ship from Aruba, you will be a resident of Aruba."

A couple of days into the cruise Hammish got sick.  Very sad.  We missed him.  A couple of days after that we saw Hammish on deck.  Exciting!  Dave shook his hand.  I shook his hand.

A couple of days after that Hammish was sick again.

A couple of days after that Dave got sick.  Of course, my first thought was:

Hammish!!!

But Dave had a chest cold that hasn't come to much.  He could have caught it from any of a couple of thousand other people on the ship.  I feel bad that I so quickly blamed the only person I knew of who was sick.  I hope Hammis will forgive me.

I guess we can all get a little paranoid these days.


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