Wedding Fun

It was fun to be in church this morning and to have so many people congratulate us on our wedding that's coming right up.

By the way, the above photo is not of us. I'm wearing black pants for our wedding. In fact, I'll probably look a little bit like the groom in this photo.

After church we had lunch with my Oldies. If you've ever been around a person who has serious memory issues you know that you have to repeat things.

Sometimes it's fun. For instance, every time we see the Oldies (which is often) we tell them we're getting married. Mrs. Oldie always looks happily surprised and that's nice. Then we tell them the details.

Today when the four of us had lunch at Brio's, we received wedding congratulations from the waiter, the hostess and the manager.

This was all be news to my Oldies.

"You're getting married?"

"Yes."

"Have you set a date?"

***

What Is a Joke?

A while back my grandson asked me "What is a joke?"

I said it's usually something that had two different meanings.

He said "Why is that funny?"

I don't know. But it is.

For instance, my really smart friend told us this one last night:

What did the Buddhist say to the hot dog vendor?

Make me one with everything!

Ba-Boom, Boom.


***

Stocking Stuffers

For most of my adult life I was exhausted. Getting Christmas together for a big family is always challenging, especially when you're married to a minister and you have umpteen parties to attend and four services on Christmas Eve.

Stocking stuffers were a particular challenge. Our kids got lots of presents but they were mostly small and practical. (Yes, socks and underwear were included.) Stuffing the stockings was redundant.

One version of the origin of this practice is that a bishop put gold coins in the stockings of poor young women so that they'd have a dowry and, hence, be able to marry. Later the coins were replaced with oranges.

This is what I got in my stocking as a child - an orange - but I warn you, don't try this now. It doesn't fly.

An article in the recent "New Yorker" gave some stocking stuffer ideas. Here are a few to help you out. All of the items can be ordered on line.

Squirrel Underpants
Nobody wants socks and underwear anymore but you can order tiny squirrel underpants from a company that will donate a portion of the profits to the Small Animal Decency Fund (to eliminate nudity among animals.)

Chocolate Flavored Toothpaste

Bacon Flavored Floss

Silly Straw
Five pieces of tubing allowing you to have coursing streams of Dr. Pepper swirling around your head.

Small Forensic Science Kit
Gather evidence to construct an air tight case against your little sister.

Baby Flash Light
A baby size anything is cute.


***

Why?

When Dave and I told this woman we met at Turtle Bread (where we eat soup) last summer that we were getting married, she had an interesting response.

Why?

I've thought about it ever since.

Why indeed. At our age, stage and with our history, it was a hard decision to make. It's also an extremely complicated one. And, of course, it doesn't help that we're both totally logical (make that anal) about making decisions.

Now, after sessions with ministers, attorneys, financial advisors, our families, friends and mostly each other, I still can't articulate it.

But here's what I know. We're happy. We can't wait. We're as excited as teenagers. More so. We have 401-Ks.

***

Best Meal

Dave and I finished up our plans for the family luncheon at the hotel after our wedding. Wasn't a big deal. We just want people to relax and have a good time.

Have you ever played the game where you decided what would be your favorite meal if you could have anything you wanted?

Mine would be several courses starting with a clear soup and a salad with anchovies on top. The entree would absolutely be boiled lobster. My very favorite fancy food. I haven't had one in about four years.

For dessert I'd have a small, intense chocolate something or other. All of this would be accompanied by fine wine - but not much of it.

Dave recently showed me an article about a guy who ordered his last meal before being executed. He had a snack of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the afternoon. Then at night he had pizza, onion rings, fried mushrooms, Doritos, French onion dip, blueberry ice cream, cherry pie and Dr. Pepper.

To each his own!

By the way, the article said that the next morning the man seemed very calm as he took communion and awaited his fate. I hope the communion helped - and the Doritos too.


***

Christmas Shopping

You probably remember me explaining to you in an earlier posting about "Cupcake ism," one of our current ways of indulging in selfish conspicuous consumption.

In the cartoon above, Ted Forth reminds us that we can go whole hog with the Neman Marcus car.

But I hope you don't. I hope you enjoy the season and enjoy buying gifts for friends and family. And especially buying gifts for people you don't even know.

That's the most fun!

***

Cappuccino Dave

We recently drove from Minnesota to Florida. It only took us six days. We love our yearly road trip. One of the best parts is seeing people along the way - sharing joys and sorrows.

We shared plenty of each.

When we stopped in Atlanta we had last minute plans to make for our wedding which will take place in that city on December 28th. Most important was driving to the downtown Atlanta courthouse to get our marriage license - a surreal experience. Of course we've both done it before but that was in 1960.

Just sos you know, this is not a romantic experience. You have to stand behind the line until they invite you to the counter. And just answer the questions, no fooling around. When we received our document it came with a lovely pamphlet on HIV.

But, all in all, we had a good time.

We stopped at our favorite Comfort Inn in Tennessee. It sits on a hill and has twinkle lights streaming all the way to the highway. My kinda place.

You may not know this but Dave loves vending machine cappuccino. So we brake for rest stops. As we drove through our nine states to get to Florida he was disappointed with Georgia. No coffee machines at the rest stops. What's up with that, Georgia?

But, as I said, all in all, we had another fun trip.


***

Healing Books

A while back a friend told me that she'd just finished reading Elizabeth Berg's book, "Home Safe," and thought about me all the while she was reading it.

I'm not really an Elizabeth Berg fan because I'm not much for women's books but I read "Home Safe" on the plane ride to Minnesota. I could see why my friend thought of me. The woman in the book is a writer who goes a little crazy when her husband dies. She can't write and can't read and makes some weird decisions like trying to get a job at the mall.

I went a little crazy when my husband died.

Berg writes easy to read, healing books. When I wasn't able to read most anything I picked up "The Art of Mending" and found it really helpful. A play on words, the woman mended clothes while her life was mending.

There are several people in my life right now who need mending. I guess, in some respects, we all do.


***

Happy Calorie Day

I hope tomorrow is a wonderful day for you. Dave and I are going to eat with friends. We are giving thanks for so very many things this year. And we're thinking about those who don't have much to give thanks for.

As for the rest of us, we'll probably pig out. I read that the average Thanksgiving dinner is laden with about 2,200 calories. The Pilgrims and Indians ate around 540 calories.

Do you have a favorite stuffing or dressing? I won't be making my famous oyster dressing this year but I thought I'd share the recipe with you anyway. Everybody loves it - and what's not to love.

I'm just glad that it's too late for you to make it so I won't have to feel guilty about that extra six pounds around your middle.

Oyster Dressing

1 stick butter
2 cups chopped onions
2 cups chopped celery
1 loaf white bread
2 teaspoons poultry seasoning
1 teaspoon pepper
6 cans oysters with liquid
2 cups chicken bullion

Cut crusts from the bread and discard. Tear bread into small pieces. Set aside in large bowl for several days. Stir often to dry.

Melt butter in large skillet. Add onions and celery. Cook on low heat until soft. Pour contents of skillet into dried bread crumbs. Add poultry seasoning, pepper and oysters. Mix. Add chicken bullion until bread is soaked and dish is a bit soupy. Spray large casserole dish with Pam. Add mixture. Bake in 325 degree oven for two hours. Serves 10.



***

Chickens

The new thing is for we Americans to raise our own chickens. And let them have "free range." We're told that it will be a beautiful experience. One that will include organic eggs and fresh fried chicken dinners. Thank goodness I live in a condo with strict rules about livestock.

I have some friends who have chickens on their farm. Well, they live there only half the year so they, technically, rent the chickens. And they have some sad and gory chicken stories. As all of us who've raised chickens do.

First and foremost, chickens poop. I mean they poop way more than you'd think. I mean that when you walk into the coop you will sometimes slip on the poop and fall into the poop so that you are sort of covered in it and all you hear when you get back to the house is "Why did it take you so long to gather those eggs?"

When I was a child, spending summers on my aunt and uncle's farm in Southern Indiana, we had chickens. Egg gathering was my job. Besides the aforementioned poop, I was afraid of the chickens. Some of them were mean.

Mostly they were in coops but a few at a time got to be yard chickens. The forerunners of free rangers. They must have thought that they had reached the top of the heap but the truth was that when they hit the yard, their days were numbered.

Because on Sunday mornings my aunt would chase down two or three chickens, ring their necks, and let the bodies, spurting out blood, dance around the yard - right before my eyes. Then they were dunked in hot water and I had to help take off the feathers before they were cleaned and made ready to fry for Sunday dinner.

I'm surprised I'm not damaged by all that violence.

When my son was 18 years old he went on a mission trip to Haiti. While he and his friends were repairing a school roof an old lady came by, built a little pen and put chickens in it. The young men climbed down from the roof and played with the chickens.

Later, and to the great surprise of my son and his city friends, she came back, chopped off their heads and prepared them for the workers' lunch.

My son later became a big game hunter. I hope he wasn't influenced by the old lady and the chickens.


***

Why I Don't Have a Job

When Sarah Palin was on Oprah the other day she pretty much dodged the question about whether or not she would run for president in 2012.  But she did suggest that having five kids, including a special needs child, would not be an issue because she has a big family support system. 

I, too, have a very big family and loads of friends.  We support each other.  But, at my age, the Dilbert cartoon pretty much explains why I sometimes don't have time or physic energy for much else. 

***

Hardware and Comics

Today, after going to lunch with my Oldies (By the way, Mrs. Oldie is having her pace maker recharged on Friday so keep her in your prayers) Dave and I went to Millers Hardware to buy a light bulb.

Millers Hardware is an institution Winter Park, Florida. Nothing fancy, but its customers are fiercely loyal. The Big Box Stores are absolutely no threat to them. One of the reasons is that they prided themselves on being "the women's hardware store" long before it was popular to do so.

Years ago there was a hardware store close to where we lived where the owners prided themselves on treating women like morons. It's no longer in business.

A coincidence, in this morning's comics section, The Middletons, which is a syndicated strip drawn by two central Florida cartoonists, had Grandma Middleton saying , I have a medication list...A list of senor activities... My doctors list...A Millers Hardware list...

A lot of us grandmas keep a Millers Hardware list.


***

Art Collectors

Yesterday Dave and I went to one of my very favorite art museums, the Mennello. It's very small. The size of a house. But it has wonderful, fun works of art and is on a lake, in a park setting.

Even kids or those people who say "I don't know art but I know what I like" like it.

Yesterday was special because this couple from St. Louis, John and Susan Horseman, has loaned their personal art collection to the Mennello. They were there, along with the St. Louis art director, to talk about their collection - which is, by the way, magnificent.

What would make a young couple with 6 kids start collecting serious art? Their first pieces are all about moms and children. Then they expanded into art work depicting the history of places they've lived.

They were very open and knowledgeable about the history of all 47 pieces. And answered all questions - a couple of which were very uncool.

How much did you pay for this one? What do you do for a living?

If you go to the Mennello - and I hope you do - and you see the Vorst painting of the black, southern mother and child - notice the small Hitler poster in the corner. Vorst was German.

It's fun to have an expert who loves and knows the paintings point out things I would never see otherwise.

***

It Could Have Been Worse

The last few days I've vacillated from feeling kind of devastated and extremely thankful. I guess we all do that from time to time.

Yesterday, everywhere I went, (Nouwen class, meeting with close friends) I was hearing about how God wants me to feel joyful - and thankful.

I guess if we didn't have some tough times we wouldn't know what joyful was or what to be thankful for.

Here's a little example:

The other morning Dave went out to get the paper. When he pressed the button to open the garage door this BIG, HEAVY spring flew off the top and ricocheted around the garage.

When we surveyed the damage it wasn't bad. The car was bumped up a bit but Dave rubbed it out with Turtle Wax.

Later, when the garage door guy came by he said that these airborne springs sometimes fly through windshields and cause terrible damage. Who knew?

Dave could have been hit in the head.

So instead of doing a lot of hand wringing and complaining about the cost of the fix, I decided to be joyful and thankful.

And I'm trying real hard to feel that way about everything.


***

Men Who Stare at Goats

I was aware that, around the time of the Viet Nam war, the government was experimenting in psychic research. I knew the Stargate Program had something to do with clairvoyants. I know that there was some controversy about one of these clairvoyants predicting David Berkowitz (Son of Sam) would do the things he did. Berkowitz confessed 20 years later to pretty much what the clairvoyant had predicted.

It was with this teeny, weeny bit of knowledge that I was excited about seeing the new movie, "Men Who Stare at Goats." After all, it stars and was produced by George Clooney. He has credentials and a reputation to uphold.

And it also stars that cute as the dickens Ewan McGregor plus old timers Jeff Bridges and Kevin Spacey.

So Dave and I saw it on Saturday.

It was a mess. One of the worst movies I've ever sat through - and that's saying something. What was the plot? I don't know. What happened? Nothing. Is it a comedy? I'm not sure.

One reviewer wondered if it was directed by an 11 year old boy. I don't think so. The kid would have done better.

What were these fine actors thinking?


***

50 Years of Flops

As you know, I love my AARP magazine - and the AARP Bulletin. The latter has a list of 50 of Americas flops in the past 50 years. Following are a few of them that are especially meaningful to me.

Smell-O-Vision - Remember when a movie came out in 1960 that was going to revolutionalize our senses, not only in the movies but in all sorts of ways? The movie, "Scent of Mystery" stunk. End of story.

Susan B. Anthony Coin - I loved it but it was a total dud. As well as the dollar coins that have come along after it. I think it's because there's no little cubby for it in cash register drawers. They first need to get rid of the penny to make room for the dollar.

WIN - President Ford's 1974 buttons to help us Whip Inflation Now. I still have a bunch.

1982 DeLorean - What was he thinking?

Jell-O for Salads - With celery, mixed vegetables and tomato flavors. It was horrible.

Gerber Singles for Adults - 'nough said.

1975 Cher/Gregg Allman Marriage - I was telling somebody a couple of years ago about this marriage but they didn't believe it took place. It did. And didn't they have a son named Elijah Blue?

Geraldo Rivera Opening Al Capone's "Vault" on Live TV - (Yawn!)

1990 Cop Rock - A very bad drama/musical featuring singing and dancing police officers.



***

The Wounded Healer

Henri Nouwen was a Catholic priest, professor and author. Some people see him as one of the most influential spiritual leaders of our time - or any time.

His whole life was a journey toward a deepening spiritual fulfillment...a search for life's meaning. Along the way he experienced tremendous ups and downs. In his 40 plus books he was excruciatingly honest with his feelings.

A little criticism makes me angry and a little rejection makes me depressed. A little praise raises my spirits, and a little success excites me. It takes very little to raise me up or thrust me down.

Yes, I can relate to that.

Dave and I are taking a class based on Nouwen's book "The Return of the Prodigal Son." Nouwen focuses on a painting by Rembrandt with the same title.

By the way, this painting has been hanging in the Hermitage in Saint Petersburg, Russia since 1766 when Catherine the Great acquired it. So I'll be able to see it some day when I make my trip to the Hermitage.

Here is the only word I can think of to describe how Nouwen felt about this painting:

Obsessed.

He says about first seeing the painting...I had just finished an exhausting six-week lecturing trip through the United States, calling Christian communities to do anything they possibly could to prevent violence and war in Central America. I was dead tired, so much so that I could barely walk. I was anxious, lonely, restless, and very needy.

Yes, I can relate to that.

The book we're studying in the class is deep and emotional. The nonstop discussion is deep and emotional. Nouwen's writings bring that out in us.

By the way, the parable called "The Prodigal Son" is about a young man who returns home after squandering his his life and fortune. Toward the end of his career Henri Nouwen left his teaching position at Harvard to live the rest of his life in a community for mentally handicapped men and women in Toronto.

He said it felt like returning home.

I can't really relate to that. But I, too, am on a journey and I too am, at my best, a wounded healer.

***

City of Thieves

One of the top two or three places I'd like to see before I die are the Hermitage Museum and the Winter Palace in Saint Petersburg, Russia. It's been a dream for a long time.

I'd also like to see the museum in Saint Petersburg, Florida but it's a little more obtainable goal.

I'm just finishing up a book about Saint Petersburg by David Benioff called "City of Thieves." It's one of those books I'd never have thought to read. But my book club chose it. I like it when somebody assigns me a good book.

It takes place in Saint Petersburg during World War II. Possibly the most horrific time and place in modern history. From 1941 to 1944 the Germans starved, bombed and besieged the people in this city. And the Russian officials didn't treat their own people any better.

Thousands starved or froze to death. Many people became cannibals.

With this backdrop the "City of Thieves" presents us with two young men, one 17 and one 20, who are sent on a mission.

A Russian officials' daughter is getting married. His wife wants to bake a wedding cake. She's hoarded all of the ingredients except eggs. These young men are told to bring back one dozen eggs within two weeks. Or be killed.

Along the way they encounter cannibals who try to eat them, pitiful young girls being used as prostitutes in a Nazi"comfort station" in the woods, fierce freedom fighters and are finally captured behind the enemy line.

Early on they think they've found an old man who secretly keeps chickens in his apartment only to discover his frozen body and only a little child left hugging the last chicken. They're elated for a while, hoping the chicken can lay 12 eggs in the required time, only to be told that their hen is a rooster.

The book is savage, scary, blood thirsty, true to history and also sweet and funny.

In one of the final segments, the boys have been captured by Germans in the woods. But the officer in charge plays chess and hasn't had a decent opponent in a long time. The 17 year old offers to play with the officer. If the officer wins the boys will still be shot but they'll get what they've requested for their last supper.

A dozen eggs.

Can't wait to finish the book in the morning to see how this turns out.

***

A Serious Man

We saw the Coen brothers movie, "A Serious Man" last night at our local art theater that seats about 100 people at tables with comfy chairs and serves wine and snacks brought by waiters.

That is to say, this movie is not main stream.

But I was looking forward to it because I love most of the movies made by Joel and Ethan Coen. And they grew up very close to where Dave lives in Minnesota. in a middle class Jewish neighborhood, the sons of college professors.

This movie is about a college professor in a middle class Jewish community in Minnesota in the 70s.

The reviews for "A Serious Man" have been all over the place. The New Yorker called it "unwatchable" and our local reviewer said pretty much the same. But I looked up "Rotten Tomatoes" and they gave it a positive 85% on their TomatoMeter.

Many of the reviewers have likened the lead character to Job in the Bible. I don't think so. Job suffered mightily but he was strong, never gave up on God (even when his loving wife begged him to "curse God and die") and - in the end - Job comes out smelling like a rose.

But the movie is very, very Jewish.

The guy has no backbone. About the only thing he has going for him is his integrity and in the end he looses that.

Here's the worst part. He experiences nothing but pain and suffering, much of it brought on by himself - THEN THE MOVIE ENDS.

We don't know:

-If the tornado kills everybody.
-If he has lung cancer.
-If he goes home and tells his wife he's sleeping in his own bed and if she doesn't like it she can go sleep at the Jolly Roger.
-If he gets tenure.
-What the heck the Polish language beginning has to do with anything.

By the way, this is a comedy.

All of the above might make you think I hated "A Serious Man." But I didn't. I was fascinated by it.

Like one of the reviewers said, Go see it..."but you will not understand anything that's going on!"


***

Judy

I have this friend. I've known her for over 30 years but she lives across the state so I don't see her much. She's physically and spiritually beautiful. One of the things we have in common is that her husband had Alzheimer's and she took excellent care of him.

I couldn't help but be sad but relieved when he died a couple of years ago because she would be free to have a new life. Maybe even one like I've been blessed with.

But a few months later she was diagnosed with lung cancer.

I contacted her a few times - but not enough. Then she moved fairly close to me to be with her children so I made a mental note to see her. I was wondering if she'd feel well enough, with the chemo and all, to go to lunch.

Last week she died.

This isn't the first time I've experienced this. Below is a poem I wrote in the 70s. You'd think I would have learned my lesson.

MARGARET RITZ

Margaret Ritz, Margaret Ritz,
I'll call yo when I can.
You haven't seen me lately,
but that was the risk you ran,
When you chose me for a friend,
And cluttered up my plans,
I do important things, you know,
I'll call you when I can.

Margaret Ritz, Margaret Ritz,
I heard you when you said,
That friends are hard to come by,
But I've got to plan ahead.
Now you've played an awful trick on me,
In the church bulletin I read,
While mediating on my life,
"Margaret Ritz is dead."


***

Do They Like Us in Outer Space?

Do you wonder about what -or if - they know of us in space?

Remember several years ago when they sent that drawing by da Vinci out on a space probe so that alien beings could know what we human beings look like? Wonder what they thought of us. We never heard back.

Not to worry.

The current issue of Newsweek reminds us that TV signals begin their endless journey outward into the cosmos at the speed of light and never stop.

So here's the deal.

Approximately 70 light years from here, near the star Aldebaran, they're now receiving "Howdy Doody."

Out 50 light years, near the star Capella, they can catch the first episodes of the "The Brady Bunch." This is good because it was the favorite childhood program of our first lady, Michelle Obama. She named all of the Brady kids on "Leno" last night, including that strange little after thought, Oliver.

Out 30 light years away, near the star Altair, some little green being is probably watching "Saved by the Bell."

Is there life on other planets? If so, they're learning all they need to know from these programs and others, like "Spongebob Squarepants."

I hope they like us.


***

Social Sins

Just heard a guy speak, actually rail on and on, about how some other people are living their lives. Especially those two big sins social conservatives like to obsess over.

Please don't yell at me about homosexuality. I'm not even gay.

Here's the thing. There are other sins in the Bible mentioned way more often. Here's a short list of themes that run from beginning to end, Old Testament to New Testament.

Gossiping - Huge theme. The Bible couldn't be more clear about how much damage gossip does.

Money Management - Jesus preached about this more than almost anything else. Don't spend what you don't have. Be a saver.

Coveting, Stealing and putting ourselves above others - OK, this is the basis for the whole world wide economic mess we are now in.

Taking Care of the Poor - I sometimes wish this wasn't emphasized so much because it really cuts into my time and my travel budget - but it's there. In spades. Take care of the poor, the widows and orphans.

Lying - Yikes! God really hates it when I do this. But God doesn't hate me. God loves me.

Loving Others - The is the entire basis for the Christian movement. And we don't get to pick and choose who's in and who's out.

Judging - I find it to be almost a full time job to deal with the above sins in my life so I don't have much time to judge others. No, wait, I started this piece by judging this guy and now I'm gossiping about him - so I have a ways to go.


***

What's Out There?

When I was a little kid I used to lie on my back in the grass and study the sky. I liked to pretend that my mom or Jesus would appear on the edge of a cloud. Sometimes, if I squinted just so, I could even see them for a minute.

Two articles in this morning's paper kind of address this issue.

The first tells us that European astronomers have found 32 new planets outside our solar system. Six of them are several times bigger than Earth.

The other story is about a professor at Macalester college in Minneapolis. His job is to find new galaxies. And he does. He says it happens so often that it gets boring.

But now they've discovered a galaxy that's altogether different than anything they've seen before. The professor says they were "flabbergasted" by what they detected.

This galaxy might tell us how all of the galaxies are formed.

What an amazing time in which to live.

They might find my mom out there after all.


***

What Time is Breakfast?

I've been having Saturday breakfast with my Oldies for many, many years. During the 8 year period that my husband was on dialysis and I had to drop him off at 5:30 A.M. they met me for a very early breakfast.

They were reliable, responsible and always there for me.

As the years went by we adjusted the time back to a reasonable 8 A.M. I could set my watch by them. (Even most of you know that Mrs. Oldie has that standing hair appointment at 9:30.)

Last Saturday when we arrived at Panera's at eight they were finished eating and wondered where we were.

Today they weren't there. At 8:45 I dialed my cell but as I looked up I saw them. They were sitting down at a table for two.

We corralled them over to our booth. But they'd forgotten to stand in line to order their breakfasts so they left their things - including Mrs. Oldie's purse - and headed for the line.

They were gone a long time. Then we looked around and saw them sitting at yet another table for two happily eating their breakfast. Dave said, "Should we corral them again?"

We did - and had a pleasant visit. Mr. Oldie and Dave shared the contents of their sketchbooks.

We left for our walk but, later, on the way back to the car Dave said, "Do you think we should remind them of the hair appointment?"

But it was 11 AM so we didn't bother.


***

Cell Phones and Driving

There's been much in the news the last couple of days about Maria Shriver being seen using her cell phone while driving after her husband and governor of California, Arnold S., signed a law forbidding it.

Most of the people I know use their cell phones while driving. I almost never do. Here's why: I can't seem to do two things a once these days. It's not so much the talking as the dialing, of course, but even talking seems tricky when I have to hold the phone.

Both hands on the wheel! Ten and two!

I sure understand the need to get work done while spending endless hours in traffic but maybe the compromise should be hands free talking.

However, I don't like other drivers not making eye contact with me due to chatting. That's rude and dangerous. A while back a woman bumped my car at a light. I got out, looked at the bumpers, walked to her car and tapped on the window. She never got off the phone.

Despite all the funny suggestions for ways the Terminator might punish his wife for this infraction, I'm sure they'll work this out.

My guess is that the strongest man in the world has said something like this.

"Maria, would you pretty please not use your cell phone while driving and being photographed?"

***

More About Cupcakes

A couple of postings back I wrote about "Cupcakism," our new foolish foray into consumer craziness.

That is to say, taking some common, inexpensive item and turning into something elite and way, way overpriced.

Yes, like coffee.

I heard from many of you. Some of you didn't believe me.

A couple of you reminded me that you caught the wave early when you paid for your kids to have hugely expensive wedding cakes made by smushing together hugely expensive cupcakes.

Now this morning's paper has an article by business columnist, and super intelligent, beautiful wife and mother, Beth Kassah. (I know this because she's a member of my church.)

She writes about Neiman Marcus' new Christmas Gift Catalogue. She's kind of lamenting that they've cut back on the over the top extravagance -like the thoroughbred racing stable in Kentucky for ten million dollars.

But they are offering the cute cupcake car pictured above for only twenty-five thousand.

As Beth says, "Who doesn't need a cupcake car?"

***

Frustrating Doctor's Visit

I went for my annual check up yesterday. No big whoop!

But I've been having some headaches. This is no big whoop because I have a long history of sinus problems. By the way, sinus problems are the number one reason patients visit their doctors.

My doctor is something else! Always a little frustrating to be in her office but she's an excellent diagnostician and takes me seriously - sometimes too seriously.

Here's exactly what I told the nurse prior to seeing the doctor.

I've been having headaches for a few weeks. They're in my face and ear. I have a history of sinus issues.

Later the doctor sweeps in and says: "I'm sending you to get an MRI of your brain."

I laughed. I thought she was kidding. She wasn't. We finally compromised on a CAT scan of my sinuses - and brain.

So I still have the headaches until further information comes in.

What's her problem? Hasn't she ever seen "Kindergarten Cop?"

It's not a tumor!





***

Get Your Flu Shot

One of the Backstreet Boys has swine flu. This is inconvenient because they're promoting their new CD.

But getting the flu is inconvenient for all of us. Also miserable and possibly life threatening.

No vaccine available yet for swine flu but it's coming. Dave and I probably won't be eligible to receive it because we're too old. Older people aren't getting swine flu. Woo hoo!

But if we could, we would. I'm all about getting vaccinated. One of my sons was telling me recently that he gets vaccinated multiple times when he leaves the country, which is often.

Good.

So get your regular flu shot. And, if you're eligible, get a swine flu shot.

I hope that Backstreet Boy, Brian, has a speedy recovery and, in the meantime, sneezes into his elbow.


***

The Informant

Dave and I saw this movie last night. It stars one of my favorite actors, Matt Damon, is directed by Steven Soderberg and produced by George Clooney. The reviews have been, generally, good, with some mention of Matt being nominated for an Oscar.

But it hasn't been well attended. Yesterday there were seven other people in the theater. Mostly people don't think it's entertaining.

It's a true story. In all of the reviews I've read it's been described as being about big business and corporate greed.

I don't think that at all. I think it's about mental illness.

Matt Damon's character is bi-polar. He's a good natured liar of global proportions. Most of the time he's a happy, lying genus/duffas who calms himself with irrelevant thoughts that constantly race through his brain,

Here's the question we discussed on the way home. Does mental illness excuse our actions? I don't think so. Anybody as smart as Matt's character has got to know that there's something very wrong with his mind.

So then there's Jesus' question: Do you want to get well?

If you see this movie be mindful of Marvin Hamlisch's excellent music. It helps us understand this man's feelings.


***

Cupcakism

An article in the current Newsweek tells us that cupcakes are the big new hip, postmodern signifier.

You know, like coffee in the 90s.

When my kids were little I baked hundreds and hundreds of cupcakes. Yes, we had those times when one of them said at bedtime "Mom, I forgot. I have to take 50 cupcakes to school/church/scouts (whatever) in the morning."

I was not creative. I kept plenty of Dunkin Hines chocolate cake mix, frosting and cupcake liners on hand. No sprinkles or gumdrops. Just hard core cupcakes. And lots of them.

Now Newsweek is saying that to be a "cupcakist" is to put your faith in the church of the cute, expensive and sweet. And many of these "followers" don't even sell cupcakes. They sell cupcake emblazoned paraphernalia like T shirts, stickers and earrings.

They're selling the idea of cupcakes. They're counting on the fact that we consumers like to overpay for the privilege of buying a status symbol.

Places that do sell cupcakes are selling "high concept" ones like mango with margarita custard, dressed up in special pleated paper cups after baking. Critics are calling this proliferation of expensive cupcake stores "bourgeois anachronism."

Come on folks. We're coming out of a major recession. Do they think we're actually going to fall for this?

Apparently we have.

And the next big lifestyle choice, according to Newsweek? Bacon.

Soon we'll all be "Baconists."

***

Finding My Oldies

Yesterday I did my two-mile-fast-walk on Park Avenue. My very favorite street. As I walked I thought about my Oldies.

They're having a bit of a hard time. I try to drop by their condo more often. By the way, their condo is big and beautiful but bursting at the seams with stuff.

So I stopped by to see them but they weren't home. So I walked to the three restaurants they frequent the most. Not there.

I was feeling sad.

Next I walked to my church where one of the groups was having a big rummage sale.

There were my Oldies! Happy as could be. Buying stuff. He had his arms full. When I met them for breakfast this morning he was carrying his new briefcase that he bought for two dollars.

By the way. I spent six dollars myself at the rummage sale. I bought two Barbie dolls for fifty cents each and a small lamp that I LOVE for five dollars. Couldn't wait to get it home but was afraid that it couldn't possibly work at that price.

But it did! It is beautiful. I've looked at it more than my new TV.

Mr. Oldie was upset with me at the rummage sale because he wanted it too. But I found it first.


***

My New TV

I bought a new television set. It's big.

OK, here's the reason. My 25 year old TV in the bedroom wasn't doing it for me anymore. In fact, I haven't turned it on in four months. So I gave it away.

Then I researched TVs. The guy at Best Buy seemed bemused by my typed notes that were revised each of the three times I visited him. I said:

Doesn't everybody come in with research and notes?

No.

Well, they should.

So, yesterday morning the Geek Squad arrived, moved my TV that's only ten years old to the bedroom and installed my brand new Sony Bravia LCD 40 incher in the living room.

Woo Hoo.

Do you believe in coincidences?

Last night I came home from dinner with friends and turned on my new TV. It was frozen. Then I turned on my old TV. It was frozen. Oh, oh, the Geeks must have messed up something.

But this morning the sets worked fine and I read in the paper that my cable company had a glitch last night and all of the TVs in the area were frozen.


So it was a coincidence.

However, as I'm writing this I still haven't found anything that interests me on my big new TV. Maybe Dave will find something when he arrives.

Maybe golf.





***

Dave's Coming!

Dave's arriving this weekend. The following is from the Bible. It's how I feel.

Listen! My lover!
Look! Here he comes,
leaping across the mountains,
bounding over the hills
My lover is like a gazelle or a young
stag.
Look! There he stands behind our
wall.
gazing through the windows,
peering through the lattice,
My lover spoke and said to me,
Arise, my darling,
my beautiful one, and come with me,
See! The winter is past;
the rains are over and gone
Flowers appear on the earth,
the season of singing has come,
the cooing of doves
is heard in our land.


***

Celebrate Life

Recently I've been having some conversations with a friend about end of life issues. Mainly about what's on the other side. This isn't an academic issue with him. He'll by leaving us soon - and he's hungry to have conversation about where he's going.

Theological concepts he's never questioned before are now paramount and somewhat troubling.

I'm honored that he talks to me. I know what it's like to question your faith with the wrong person.

Next week our church is having a healing service. I recently heard a person telling about how somebody she knew (or knew of) was instantly healed of ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease) after attending a healing service.

To me, that's not what healing is necessarily about. Because here's an absolute fact.

We're all gonna die.

Isn't healing about accepting that fact and celebrating life anyway - with the assurance that the next life will be even better?

I hope my friend comes to this celebrating and assurance. But, whatever he does, I'm honored to be his friend to the end.





***

Leadership Styles

When I was doing consulting work one of the things we did was train mangers. For many years we've known that the way to be successful in most any endeavor is to treat your customers and your employees well.

This isn't rocket science (although I did work at the Cape.) It's common sense.

But we continue to glorify mean bosses even in these hard times.

A new movie (documentary) came out today called "The September Issue." It's about Vogue editor Anna Wintour, the same woman who was glorified in the movie "The Devil Wears Prada."

Since we're no longer in indulgent, extravagant times, it'll be interesting to see how this new movie does. I, frankly, don't understand why we put up with tyrants, especially ones that rule the fashion and gourmet food industries.

That's partly because I don't understand the importance of these industries. Anna Wintour has been quoted as saying that people "mock" fashion because they're afraid of it.

Yes, I admit it. Some of those outfits in Vogue really scare me.

***

Should I Get a Tattoo?

I'm just kidding. I wouldn't get a tattoo. But a person whom I love and admire above most others has a little butterfly tattoo on her ankle. And it wasn't a youthful indiscretion. It's relatively recent. It's one of the things I love and respect about her.

Since coming home the only way I can get my daily two-mile-fast-walk in is to go to the mall. In Minnesota Dave and I were outside every day because the summer was cool and dry. Here the hot, wet air slaps me on the cheeks when I go out for the paper at 7 A.M.

It's only fair that Floridians occasionally envy Minnesota weather.

Anyway, I was happy to see that there aren't many empty spaces in my mall. In fact there are a couple of interesting new stores.

The first is a Tattoo Parlor called "Avenue Ink." It's sleek and upscale with red leather couches and catalogues on black lacquered tables. (At first I thought it was a Chinese restaurant.) The tattooing booths are in the back.

How do I feel about this? Like it or not, tattoos are now mainstream. It's a personal choice. Remember when only "bad" girls got their ears pierced? I understand that "Avenue Ink" is doing well.

The other interesting new store is large and sells only flip flops.


***

Do You Want to Get Well?

I know, this question seems like a no-brainer but it's among my favorite Jesus quotes.

Today a woman called to tell me her husband died. She was sobbing so much that I could barely understand her. I immediately offered to go right over to her house but she said she'd come to mine.

As it turns out her husband died five months ago. Her grief is as fresh as the first day. She stayed with me for two hours and never stopped talking about herself and her feelings. The couple of times I tried to distract her or tell her something of myself she had no interest.

Nor did she have any interest in counseling or medical help for her depression.

I realize the above makes me seem horribly insensitive.

But here's the thing. The last time I talked with her was about a year after my husband died. I happened to see her in a store and she spent half an hour crying and telling me how much she missed my husband. I finally had to take her into a little tea shop to get her calmed.

I know she's ill. Help is available. But she doesn't want to get well.


***

Coping Capacities

Yesterday's sermon was about learning to be content.

My minister talked about the Apostle Paul who famously said, "I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am."

That's saying a lot because he was in a pickle a good bit of the time.

My minister also quoted Victor Frankel who came to some amazing conclusions when he was a prisoner in a concentration camp in World War II.

What he basically came to was that other people couldn't change who he was - no matter what they did to him.

I believe this as well - but I don't always feel it. Sometimes I feel like "This person's driving me crazy."


Back in the years when I was writing poetry, (and this is probably no surprise to you) I wrote one about this very subject.



HELP STOP CRIME
by Cecily Crossman - 1972


I accused you of a felony,
I thought you broke my heart,
And ruined my life.
But,
After thoroughly investigating the crime,
I will concede,
It could have been an inside job.




***

Time Travelers

On Saturday two girlfriends and I saw the movie "The Time Traveler's Wife." It's a love story about this girl who falls in love with this guy but the problem is that he keeps disappearing.

Sometimes when he returns he's older - sometimes younger - and always in need of clean clothes.

In some ways this describes your everyday male/female relationship problem.

Oh, and I forgot. She tricks him into getting her pregnant.

This movie kept my interest but I was frustrated by the ending. No problems are solved. I thought when the guy was diagnosed by the genetic specialist (he had Chrono Impairment) we'd find the secret of this impromptu and inconvenient time traveling and get in corrected.

Another frustration: They get rich by cheating on the lottery i.e., getting the numbers in the future, then going back to buy a ticket. Does it seem right to you that this swell, handsome guy should use his powers for stealing?

And finally, there's the laundry factor.

In all of these ooy gooey romantic movies they never seem to have to deal with real life. The ooy gooiest one that comes to mind is "Bridges Of Madison County."

At some point you have to run the sweeper, do some laundry and buy groceries.

That's when lots of guys disappear.


***

Hard Times and Feeding the Homeless

I went with some friends to serve lunch to the homeless today.

It looks like an easy job because all you have to do is dish up the food and smile.

But looks are deceiving. First, there were way, way more hungry people there than last time I volunteered. Several agencies that do this work have gone bankrupt, leaving these people with fewer options.

They line up outside. Women, children and handicapped first. The first man I saw looked a lot like Nick Nolte. For a second I wondered if it was Nick Nolte.

As I've shared with you before, the food is served for one hour - period. So we want to do it as fast as possible in order to feed everybody in line.

We failed today.

My assignment was to serve the salad. Easy, right? It was in a huge bin. I'd already decided that I could go faster if I filled the compartment in the paper plate with my plastic-gloved hand, and, because the guy knows me, I'd already had the big lecture about not putting too much on the plates.

But at the last minute, instead of salad dressing, the guy came along and poured about two gallons of guacamole dip into the salad and mixed it up. (This food is all donated so they just do the best they can.)

Guacamole dip is like glue. After losing a couple of gloves in the salad and having to stop and fish them out, I switched to tongs. My thumb is still sore from one solid hour of squeezing tongs.

The man standing next to me, the one handing me the plates, told me he volunteers there every day. I can understand why. It's such an honor to do this.


***

A Good Mom

When my kids were growing up I'm sure they thought I was sometimes hard on them. I ran a tight ship. They would accasionally ask:

"Did you say 'No' because you don't want me to do this or because we don't have the money?"

I occasionally replied, "Both. But I hope even if we had the money I'd still be a good mom and say 'No.'"

Less than a week ago the president spoke to several million school children. Hard to believe because he's been in so much hot water since then.

I thought what he said was moving, insightful and inspirational Following is my favorite part.

...some of you are probably wishing it were still summer and you could've stayed in bed just a little longer this morning.

I know that feeling. When I was young, my family lived in Indonesia for a few years, and my mother didn't have the money to send me where all the American kids went to school. So she decided to teach me extra lessons herself, Monday through Friday - at 4:30 in the morning.

Now I wasn't too happy about getting up that early. A lot of times I'd fall asleep right there at the kitchen table. But whenever I'd complain, my mother would just give me one of those looks and say, "This is no picnic for me either, buster."

That's my idea of a good mom.


***

Why I Love Dave

Last week. when Dave was getting ready for an estate sale. he ran across a special pair of earrings that he'd given his wife years ago.

But he didn't sell them in the estate sale. What should he do with them?

In the meantime his good friend - for the past 30 years - died . The day after the death the man's widow, fresh with grief, also a close friend of Dave and his late wife, came by to see Dave.

She's a beautiful woman with a beautiful spirit.

They had a good and tearful visit. He gave her some information on memorial services because this is something with which we both have some expertise.

Then, just as she was leaving, he said:

"Wait a minute, I have a gift for you."





***

More About Memory

I started teaching a Bible study last night. One of the participants, an elderly person I've known and respected for a very long time, told me privately that he'd never read the book of Acts before so when he started reading it this past week he was disturbed at times.

Now, normally, I love having people tell me they're disturbed or excited or any other emotion they've experienced after reading a portion of the Bible.

Sometimes I get a little freaked out myself.

But here's what I know about this man. He knows the Bible. He's been in church and study classes his whole life. He's been in my church for almost as long as I've been alive.

Here's what I think: He's forgotten.

So here's my question: What does it mean when we forget the source(s) of our value systems? When we forget the foundations of which we've built our integrity as people.

If I should experience serious memory issues will I forget who I am?

Or is that permanently established - a Done Deal?

Maybe this is all the information I'll need:

Jesus loves me, this I know,
For the Bible tells me so,
Little ones to him belong,
They are weak but he is strong.


***

Time in a Bottle

If I could save time in a bottle...

But we can't.

Today I went with some granddaughters to see a Disney Princess show. The little ones knew absolutely all of the characters. I didn't know half of the princesses.

On the way there we grown ups had a conversion about Prince (You know, who used to be known as "The Artist Formerly Known as Prince.")

The teenager in the car never heard of him.

The generations keep rolling along and there's nothing we can do about it.

This month the following people are celebrating their 50th birthdays:

• Marie Osmond - remember that sweet little female Osmond?
• Jason Alexander - remember the young, single and angry George Costanza?
• Simon Cowell - how much longer will he be all t-shirts and muscles?

And Bob Newhart will be 80 years old this month.

We obviously can't save time in a bottle.

***

Life Story

Dave and I are apart for a time. Sad, but we both have important things to do where we are. But we'll be together soon because we're well aware that this is not a spring time romance.

It's a late fall love affair. It started in the later chapters of our life stories.

This was made even more clear when I came home a couple of days ago to find his voice mail. His close friend - who is married to his original wife and has a beauitful family - instead of going to rehab after heart surgery, has just been transferred to a hospice.

Just like that!

In 1975, thirty four years ago, I wrote a poem called "Life Story." The first editor I sent it to, sent it back with a note saying "What do you know about a life story" at your age?

It did eventually get published and over the years I've heard from people who (unfortunately) related to it. I reread it after receiving Dave's voice mail.

LIFE STORY (written in 1975)

We met in Chicago in the spring,
And I was wearing a navy coat (remember the
one with the funny buttons and the big loops?)
And we fell in love that day.

We married in the little church in the park,
And the world was bright and warm and clear
And I though,
"There must be a God somewhere looking down on us."

In the years that followed, (there must have been
bad times but I remember only the adventure)
You loved me and you were my strength,
And I began to know,
"Yes, there really is a God."

The children were born - and grew,
And our love took on new meaning - new scope -
new dimensions,
And I wanted to shout to the world,
"There is a God who loves us all!"

Then they were gone, (it seems we had them such a
short time)
And we settled back to living in each other.
And I said,
"God is good."

Then one day you were gone - just like that -
you were gone.
I am alone.
The pain is unbearable and yet there is no alternative.
I am confused.
Is there a God?
Where is he?


***

My Older Brain

Yesterday morning my phone rang. I picked it up and saw on the caller I.D. that my urologist's office was calling. I thought "Why?"

But it wasn't my urologist's office. It was my dentist's receptionist calling to remind me of my appointment today.

Somehow my brain transposed the names.

So she and I had a crazy conversation where she tried to tell me I had an appointment and I told her I didn't. She finally set me straight.

If that happens when you're 40 it's just embarrassing. When it happens at my age I think "Jeezz...is my brain shrinking or something?"

When I saw her in the dentist's office today I, of course, apologized again - and then said "Didn't you want to just come over to my house and slap me?"

She laughed and then told me that she gets calls all the time from the patients of the gastro guy across the street describing symptoms she knows nothing about.

Don't know if she was telling the truth but it made me feel better.


***

Saturday Morning Time Warp

This morning I went to Panera's in Winter Park, Florida as I do every Saturday morning. Only it's been 14 weeks since I left for Minnesota for the summer.

My Oldies were happy to see me. I was happy to see them. They've been through so much this summer but they seemed about the same to me as they did in May.

Where have you been? They asked several times even though I wrote them and called them all summer.

Where is ....that man? they asked several times. Each time I explained that he'd be here soon. Luckily they like Dave.

I told them we are getting married. They were both very surprised and happy. Even though I've told them many times before.

Not only were they pretty much the same - but the other Panera's regulars were in their places.

The Comic Driving School Instructor came by. There is no conversation with him. We say hi and he does ten minutes of stand up.

The middle aged sisters sat at their usual table. They still look alike.

The six or seven old men who commander the the big cushy chairs and discuss the problems of the world and how they would solve them were all there doing their jobs.

After breakfast I walked to the Farmer's Market and had several conversations along the way.

The Popcorn Lady was happy to see me. I was happy to see her.

It was a comforting morning.


***

Are You Listening?

The guest preacher at church yesterday was Dr. Phil Amerson, the new president of Garrett Evangelical Theological Seminary at Northwestern University. He was brilliant. My understanding is that he's one of the great minds in theology.

Here's the most brilliant thing he said: "We're ALL always auditioning." He then explained that the word "audition" means to "listen," i.e., it's from the word "audio."

So this is what I heard him say even though these are not his words.

Shut up and listen!!!

This is excellent advice for the new C.E.O. of a company or the new minister of a church - or any of us who find ourselves in stressful or new situations where we'd like to come or strong and show our stuff.

Yesterday evening Dave got some very bad news about a close friend. I wanted to "fix it." But instead I listened.

Today we went to visit that friend's wife - and we listened.

I'm feeling excited and emotional because I'm leaving tomorrow for Atlanta to see people I love and then on to Florida to see more people I love.

But I'm feeling very sad and emotional because I'm leaving Dave for a while.

It's confusing. But I'm trying to listen to myself and to him.


***

I'm In Trouble

There's a little story (actually called a parable) in the New Testament book of Matthew about a rich guy who leaves on a trip but before he goes he entrusts his money to three servants, expecting them to invest it well.

The bottom line is that the third servant is so scared that he buries the money in the ground. Needless to say he's in big trouble when the rich guy gets home.

Last May, shortly before I left home, my minister ended his sermon by inviting anybody who wanted to - to take away an envelope containing $25.00. Yes, there were hundreds of envelopes there for the taking. I don't remember his instructions but I do remember that they were pretty loose. Just do something creative.

He didn't mention the above parable.

He did suggest that if anybody wanted to share what they did with the $25.00 they could post it on the church website. Several people did. These stories were, of course, inspiring. And creative.

My envelope containing the $25.00 is still - buried in my purse!

All summer long I've thought that the perfect situation would arise. Once it did but I didn't have the money with me.

When I occasionally obsessed about it Dave suggested I put the money in the offering plate at the church we attend here in Minnesota - and just mark it for some special ministry. But I didn't want to.

Now I'm getting ready to go home with the $25.00 still on me!

I haven't even invested it. I could console myself by saying that the first part of the summer I would have lost some of it but now the market's doing well - so, no excuses.

Woe is me! What am I gonna do?


***

We Americans Love Revenge Movies

Sunday evening we saw "Inglorious Basterds." (Yes, that's the way it's spelled. Why, I don't know.) It was the #1 movie this weekend.

First, let me say that the movie is beautifully filmed. Brad Pitt is funny - but he's not in the movie much.

It's not surprising that it's a blockbuster because, first and foremost, it's a REVENGE movie. They always do well. Whether it's a Clint Eastwood spaghetti western or a Charles Bronson vehicle, revenge movies have always been successful.

They bring out the worst in us.


But this movie is unique. It turns Jews into Nazis. And makes a comedy of it. It's appallingly insensitive.

This "Dirty Dozen" team of cute Jews are monsters.

Fortunately, in real life, what Jews and the rest of us have tried to do about the Holocaust is to continue to remind people of the atrocities and to say "Never Again."

I recently read something about director Quintin Tarantiono in Newsweek. He was quoted as saying, If I had a gun and a 12-year-old kid broke into my house, I would kill him.

I found that disturbing and sad. Just as I found hearing people (young men) laughing and cheering in the movie disturbing and sad.

And scary.


***

Hamburger Jones

My time here in Minnesota is winding down. It's been a good, cool summer. We've eaten out almost every day but mostly for breakfast or lunch and mostly light meals.

But yesterday we pigged out!

We'd seen this new restaurant on Saturday but we'd already had our meal at Noodles so we had to wait. By the way, at Noodles we had noodles. Then walked to Whole Foods and shared a Jamba Juice. Yum, yum.

So yesterday, after church, we tried Hamburger Jones. The temp was in the 70s. We ate outside in the sunshine.

Hamburger Jones has a fun, entertaining menu. The two hamburgers we most enjoyed reading about were:

The White Trash Burger - with chicken fried bacon, fried cheese curds and plenty of Velveeta.

The Hangover - with bacon, cheddar, hot sauce and fried egg.

Dave saw a man about his age having The Hangover and went over to chat. I thought he was going to admonish him but Dave was actually thinking about having one himself.

But we both settled for a more traditional burger with fries and baked beans. That was enough trans fat for us. But man, was it good!


***

Proud to be a Woman

There was an election in Afghanistan yesterday. We don't yet know the outcome. The Taliban continues to be oppressive and voting is very, very dangerous.

Especially for women.

But they voted anyway. Following are some quotes from Afghan voters in this morning's Star Tribune.

(Photo by Saurabh Das)

In Kabul:
"I know the security situation of my country is not good, but I have made my decision to come and cast my vote anyway."

In Mazar-I-Sharif:
"I was so excited last night. All I could think about was today," said a 20 year old first time voter who cast her ballot for Abdullah.

In Kandahar:
"I was afraid to come and cast my vote. But my father encouraged me, 'Be brave, you are an Afghan woman, you should have faith. It is the hand of God.'"

As I read this I was so proud to be a woman who votes - and understands the importance of voting.


***

The Apostle Paul and Mozart

One of the books I've read (or re-read) this summer is the book of Acts. It introduces the Apostle Paul. He's all over the New Testament. He was quite a powerful and colorful guy. He and I have had our ups and downs but, basically, he has my respect. He got the job done.

He mentioned several times in his letters that he had an affliction of some sort. He called it a "thorn in his side." Over the years theologians and scholars of all kinds have tried to come up with what it was.

Several years ago I was (inappropriately) laughing out loud when I listened to a lady minister explain that she knew what it was because she had the same affliction.

Allergies.

Then she listed all of her "proofs."

Now we have the latest theory on what killed Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart at the age of 35. Over the years we've heard that he was poisoned, that he ate bad food, that he was killed by a jealous rival and so on.

A report from the Annals of Internal Medicine now suggests us that he died from strep throat. They think this, basically, because it was going around at the time.

As a person who suffered mightily from strep as a child, as did my siblings, I tend to think they finally got it right.

But my guess is that I'm projecting. Just like the lady minister with the allergies.


***

I Am Not a Sports Fan

Sometimes when we're discussing current events and I acknowledge that, yes, I have heard of Tiger Woods, Dave will say "See, you do know something about sports."

And I always respond with: "I didn't say I didn't know - I said I didn't care. "

But it's hard to ignore sports when the three inch tall headlines in this morning's paper shout:

FAVRE FEVRE

OK, it seems that there's this football player named Brett Favre who's been playing hard to get with this football team called "The Vikings." But now he's agreed to come to what we in Minnesota like to call "The Purple Side."

Vikings fans are reacting like he's a rock star.

I understand he played football for the Green Bay Packers until he retired. Green Bay is in the neighboring state of Wisconsin so the Packers are, apparently, rivals of the Vikings.

Brett Favre is old (39) gray and injured so I don't know what the fuss is all about. But the Vikings website that usually gets about a hundred thousand hits a day (???) got a million yesterday.

Since I'm not a sports fan, this is all a big mystery to me.


***

Blogging from Kenya

I'm in Minnesota for the summer enjoying myself. In the meantime, my church, in Winter Park, Florida, has sent out over a dozen mission teams this year.

There are several out right now but the one that's just been blowing me away on a daily basis is the young adult team in Kenya. Just think about it - busy young adults taking the time and money (yes, they have to pay their own way) to fly to Kenya to work like crazy for two weeks! It's a hard trip, one that I could no longer make.

And, for young adults who're not noted for attending church on a regular basis, two to three hour Kenya church services.

The trip was limited to 17 people. It filled up fast.

In their daily blog they're using phrases like "Emotional overload," "Beautiful people," and "Billions of people lack clean drinking water."

They love what they're experiencing - even the heartache. But these young adults, and others like them, are the ones who'll solve many of these world problems. I'm certain of it.

The great part for me is that I get to read their daily blog. I feel like I'm there with them - and in some ways I am.


***

Born to Run

Does this man look suspicious to you? Right on the heels of the Professor Henry Lewis Gates (self) house break-in, we have this story:

Music icon Bob Dylan, age 68, was ambling around a New Jersey seaside neighborhood last week when an alert homeowner called police about a "scruffy looking" stranger lurking about.

When the 24 year old policewoman arrived to question the man, he immediately confessed that his name was Bob Dylan.

"Who?"

He then told her he was in town for a concert that evening with Willie Nelson and John Melloncamp.

"Who?"

She drove him to his hotel where his manger vouched for him. So, crisis over.

But there was some later speculation about how maybe Bob Dylan was looking for Bruce Springsteen's old house where he (Dylan) wrote Born to Run. God only knows what he might have done - or written - if he'd found it.


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Where'd I Put My Keys?

Dave and I are constantly trying to come up with stuff that's filed away in our brains - somewhere. So, as I was thumbing through my More Magazine, that I bought at the used book store for a dollar, I zeroed in on this article called New Rules for Saving Your Memory.

Because, let's face it, I need help. And if you're over 50 you do too.

My theory has been that, at our age, we have so much stored up there that it just takes longer and longer to file through it all in order to come up with name of the lead singer of the Pretenders. Or Gerald Ford's Secretary of State.

But this article says that, when we're young, our brains do a good job of figuring out what's relevant or not and then subtracting the irrelevant. So they've recently learned that most midlife memory fading isn't about retrieval. It turns out that our mature brains have a harder time blocking out useless information.

This is certainly true about me. I am the queen of trivia. Dave says that if he ever goes on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? he wants me to be his call-in friend because I know a little something about almost everything. But coming up with fast answers can be a problem.

On a more serious note, the articles says that the very best thing you can do for your brain is exercise, i. e., regular aerobic exercise.

It's good for what ails us - body and mind.

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One Less Link to Camalot

There was a time in my life when I was totally fascinated with the Kennedys. I was most fascinated with how Joe and Rose raised their children.

No, I'm not blind to the Kennedy craziness. From the bootlegging to Chappaquiddick - from "I think I'll get our daughter a lobotomy while Rose is out of town" to the somewhat risky behavior of racing down the ski slopes drunk and backwards and slamming into trees.

And, yes, I lived in West Palm Beach during the Kennedy nephew rape trial. (It was during that time that the "Ted Kennedy dress shirt and nothing else" style was popularized.")

So I get it. The Kennedys are flawed.

But aren't we all? We're all complicated and we all come from murky gene pools.

I feel very sad that another of the nine children of Joe and Rose Kennedy is gone. Eunice Kennedy Shriver is dead at age 88. She was the champion of special needs kids. She founded the Special Olympics. Her son, Robert, said "She never ran for public office but she changed the world." I agree.

Her son in law, the bodybuilding, multi-millionaire Republican movie star, Arnold Schwarzenegger, said: She changed my life...by putting me on the path to public service, starting with drafting me as a coach for the Special Olympics."

Joe and Rose Kennedy taught their children that much is expected of those to whom much has been given. We've all benefited from this legacy.

Joesph Kennedy, Jr. died a war hero in WW II.
John Kennedy's short time as president shaped all of our lives in positives ways.
Bobby Kennedy, as Attorney General, fought the bad guys to the end.
Jean Kennedy Smith served as ambassador to Ireland for many years.
Ted Kennedy has been a senator for almost 50 years.

Sadly, we will be reminded if his great accomplishments all too soon.

Besides all of the other endeavors, the children of Rose and Joe had a huge number of offspring. Most of them are in public service.

So we'll continue to be blessed in many ways as the legacy lives on. Because much is expected of those to whom much is given.


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Julie and Julia

We saw this movie last night. We both loved it. Here's what I loved:

The way Julia and Paul Child interacted. They had a very healthy love life and they respected each other. They were a delight to watch. I hope Dave and I treat each other the same way. It's a very different style of relationship from the young Julie and her husband.

The way Meryl Streep is such a great actress that she can "act" really tall ever though she's only 5' 6". Julia Child was a 6' 2" force of nature.

The way Julia's book, "Mastering The Art of French Cooking" came about - after a decade of struggling. American editors didn't think the "servantless" American public was ready for intricate French cuisine.

The way Julie Powell's life changed through blogging. SO HAS MINE! I looked up her blog today. In the last part of the movie she learns that Julia Child (then 90 years old) didn't care for her (Julie's) blog. In today's blog posting she modifies that a bit. But my take on it is that Julia Child was 90 years old! Give her a break.

A couple of things I didn't like:

The way Julie treated her husband. Even after he left and came back. She still never said, "How was your day?"

The French cooking itself. The movie did not make me want to prepare or eat the recipes. They're all complicated and the first five ingredients are butter, butter, butter, butter and butter.

Butter is 100% fat. Just so's you know!


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Marriage and Aging

Did you know that most young couples getting married don't have an in depth discussion about money and that younger people tend to marry financial opposites?

I did.

And they don't understand each others financial behavior.

I didn't.

Tightwads attract spendthrifts and visa versa.I was the tightwad. He was the spendthrift. I once wrote that "if we did only what I wanted to do we wouldn't have had any fun. If we did only what he wanted to do we'd been in jail."

This time around Dave and I are so alike that it's frightening. But beyond that we've talked through just about everything we can think of - including finances. (I like to think of both of us as frugal but generous.)

And we've tried to plan for just about any eventuality. My Oldies are having some big problems and it's made us even more aware of how important it is make intelligent decisions that affect us and our families while we still have our marbles.

Because if/or when we loose them it's hard for all concerned. My Oldies' (middle aged) kids are stepping up and dealing with serious issues but it's very, very difficult.

I hope my kids would be as patient and understanding with me when I start losing my fantastic physical and intellectual abilities.


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Profiling

A young Chinese-American journalist, in writing about the Professor Henry Louis Gates incident, commented in today's paper on a similar situation that recently happened to him.

Thomas Lee arrived a little before noon at a large company to do an interview with the president. He told the receptionist at the front desk that he was looking for the president's executive assistant.

"Oh, are you delivering food?" she asked.

OK, her response was totally inappropriate. But my guess is that it wasn't so much racist as it was because he was (and looked) young. I bet that if he'd been older, wearing a suit and carrying a brief case rather than an open shirt and backpack, she wouldn't have said something so dumb.

A few years ago one of my sons (who's always looked young) was asked, as an expert consultant, to fly to Boca Raton to meet with some heavy hitters whom he'd never met.

He didn't know they'd be meeting him at the plane so he arrived in jeans and t-shirt. There they were waving a card with his name on it. But when he walked over to shake hands they refused to believe it was him.

Some day this Chinese-American journalist will be happy that he looks younger than his years - and maybe even laugh when somebody thinks he's delivering take-out.

You can trust me on that!


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When We Are Married

We saw the British period piece "When We Are Married" at the great Guthrie Theater last night. The thrust stage setting was lush, the costumes intricate and the actors were exceptional.

The plot is this: Three proper couples are celebrating their 25th wedding anniversaries only to discover that they were never legally married. Thus ensues two hours of arguing over things that aren't important - like what people will think. In the end they learn that it's all a mistake and they go back to the way they were when the play started. Bored, bickering and clueless about themselves and each other.

And, by the way, these couples who've been married for 25 years were made to look very, very old.

If I were redoing this play I'd make it contemporary and serious. Yes, people who've been married for a while do get complacent and sometimes forget how much they mean to each other. But the option of a do-over - or not, would be interesting.

Of course some couples do this symbolically by having a wedding renewal service, or doing something catastrophic like having an affair, thereby requiring them to decide whether or not they want to remain married - and why.

New beginnings, deep discoveries and commitments are always exciting. Even if they're with the same spouse.


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Beer Deplomacy

Most of us enjoyed the culmination, in President Obama's back yard, of the Professor Gates, Police Sgt. James Crowley crisis.

We liked the jokes, the choice of beers, the wearing or not wearing of jackets, etc.

Everybody made mistakes in the break in incident . Nobody had to apologize. They were given a chance to come together where they could - with dignity. Like they discovered that they both liked fancy beers - but different brands.

Even the president made a mistake by using the word "stupidly." But people had fun with it. Several versions of t-shirts were quickly manufactured. My favorite had the words "I'm with stupidly" across the front.

I think the picture above is great! It depicts a microcosm of what's possible all over the world. People coming together where they can find common ground.

I was reminded of this again this morning when I saw President Clinton bringing home the two journalists, Euna Lee and Laura Ling.

To do this he had to meet with North Korea's reclusive (and some say crazy) leader, Kim Jong. What could they possibly have in common? Well, they both love Elvis. (I wondered to Dave if maybe they sat around in their Elvis outfits.)

Also, Kim Jong loves rock stars. Bill Clinton is a rock star.

But the important point is that vast differences were set aside, they came together where they could and the women were released.

As a part of this process it was good to see Clinton and Al Gore having a hug. They've not always been on the same page. But I'm sure Gore was grateful to have these journalists, who work for Current -TV, which he co-founded, home safe and sound.

All of this success - the professor and the cop and an international incident - with no bloodshed.

What a blessing.


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