Come on Down

This morning's Orlando Sentinel has an interview with United Health Care's Medical Director, Dennis Young.  In the article Dr. Young gives Central Florida a grade of C in evaluating our overall health. Here's the rundown. It's not pretty.

• Obesity:                            D to F.  Over 27% of us are obese. 
• Smoking:                          C
• Exercise                           D to F.  
• Diabetes:                          F.  Over 10% of us have diabetes.
• High School Graduation:   F.  Less than 70% of us graduate. 

So if you are an obese, sedentary, high school dropout, diabetic smoker....Come on down!  You'll fit right in.  

OK, Seriously, it's New Years.  Time for new decisions with our health care and everything else.  Time for a new start.  I love new beginnings. 

In addition to the dismal grades above, Dr. Young gives us an A grade for our excellent quality of health care here in Central Florida.  So come on down no matter what kind of shape you're in.  We'll help you get physically, spiritually, intellectually and emotionally better - if you want to. 

***

Sound of Silence

We're home from our Christmas travels. All in all a good experience despite the sinus infection.  On the 23rd I flew from Chicago to Atlanta.  Not too painful but my ears closed up...and I stopped hearing.

And I heard very little until the 27th when they popped open again in a hotel room in Macon, Georgia.

Most of the silent time I spent in Atlanta with my daughter, son in law, four little children and two big dogs.  Now you might think this would be a disaster but not hearing has it's advantages.  It was the quietest Christmas I've had in many years.  I heard no background noises, no television, almost no music.

It was sad not to hear the little ones but they weren't really aware of the problem.  How did I manage conversations with the adults?

I'll tell you a secret.  When I was a child I received almost no health care.  After several bouts with strep, I lost all of the hearing in my left ear and some in my right.  Months later, at the special school I attended, rather than sending me to a doctor, they ordered lip reading classes.  (When I was a young woman and working at Emory University I finally had ear surgery to restore most of my hearing.)

But the blessing in all that is that I still, after all these decades, read lips.  I think that looking at people squarely in the face when they speak to me has been a great benefit in communicating.  Especially since my (so called) career was all about communication.

So, over the holidays, I "heard" family members by looking very carefully at their beautiful faces.


***

Movie Quotes...Again

As you know, I'm a movie buff.  I've shared many meaningful quotes with you over the years.  On this lazy Christmas afternoon, while others in this house are playing with toys, I want to share two of my favorites.

The first, because it's Christmas, is from "The Bishop's Wife."  The 1947 version where David Niven plays the bishop.  In the movie the bishop has been corrupted by wealth and wants to build a cathedral but an angel, played by Cary Grant sets him straight.  So this is a small part the message the bishop delivers on Christmas eve, given to him by God, via Cary Grant.

Tonight I want to tell you the story of an empty stocking.....You give me a book; I give you a tie....All the stockings are filled...except one.  The stocking for the child born in a manger.  It's his birthday...Loving kindness, warm hearts and the stretched out hand of tolerance.  All the shining gifts that make peace on earth.  

The next is a small part of my very favorite presidential speech in a movie - and maybe in real life too.  It's delivered by Michael Douglas playing President Andrew Shepard in the movie, "An American President."

For the last couple of months, Senator Rumson has suggested that being president of the country was, to a certain extent, about character....I have been here three years and three days, and I can tell you without hesitation:  Being president to this country is entirely about character. ..."You want free speech?  Let's see you acknowledge a man whose words make your blood boil....We have serious problems to solve, and we need serious people to solve them....I promise you Bob Rumson is not the least bit interested in solving (them.)  He is interested in two things....making you afraid of it, and telling you who's to blame for it....We've got serious problems and we need serious people....

My name is Andrew Shepard and I AM the president. 

Both of these speeches were written by screen writers and delivered by actors - many years ago.  But they are extremely relevant today.


***

Christmas Colds

Years ago I would get a cold every Christmas.  It makes sense because I was always exhausted and was around hoards of people.  Now I take better care of myself so it doesn't happen so much.

But Dave and I got sick almost two weeks ago, and we're still sick.  He's in Chicago hacking away.  I'm in Atlanta hacking away.  I'm on my second round of antibiotics.  

It's Christmas eve and I'm determined to be in church.  All four of my Atlanta grandchildren are in the service. The five year old will be an angel and will say:

Glory to God in the highest and peace to all people.

On this special Christmas eve, I would like to say this to you as well.

Glory to God in the highest and peace to all people. 

And, if you have a Christmas cold, I want to share the following.  Dave and I saw this sign a couple of weeks ago when we went to the Gaylord Palms Hotel in Orlando to experience "ICE."  This is a tour through a lovely indoor ice village where the temperature is 9 degrees.  It's probably where we got sick.  

Civility In Times of Stress

It's my opinion that there's no excuse for rudeness.  Either privately or publicly.  We can get the job done without it.

Here are two examples from our very interesting day, yesterday.  Which, by the way, was my birthday.

We'd planned to have a birthday dinner with friends in Amelia Island but ended up sick and in Emergency Care.  Actually Dave had a fever and that scared me a bit.

Example # 1.  We had an 11:30 AM appointment at the clinic.  I had filled out the paperwork on line to save time.  But, of course, when we arrived, the (surly) young lady at intake needed our driver's licenses and insurance cards.  About 40 minutes later she said to Dave, "where are your cards?"

"I gave them to you."

"No you didn't"

"Maybe you put them in someone else's file."

This was the only time this woman made eye contact with us.  And it was a wide eyed glare.

After another hour, she, along with another really sweet woman, having searched everywhere, and trying to play back the surveillance cameras to show that Dave hadn't given her the cards, gave up.

But, yes they would still let us see the doctor.

But then, guess what?  She found the cards.  And guess where?  In someone else's file.

Did she apologize or even speak to us or even make eye contact after all this?  You know the answer.

The other woman couldn't have been nicer, apologized profusely and talked with us throughout the entire fiasco.  By the way, Dave and I were as sweet as pie during the process, even when she insinuated Dave might be senile.

Example #2.  While we sat in the waiting room we chatted with a young, uniformed police officer.  After a while our conversation turned to the Connecticut tragedy.  This young policeman then told us that he and other officers had been assigned to patrol the local schools these last few days since the tragedy.  But a sad thing was happening at the high school.  The kids are taunting the police.  Calling them pigs ....and worse.

Maybe they think these officers are trying to catch them with drugs or doing something else wrong, rather than the real reason - to protect them from becoming victims.

Whatever is going on, there's no excuse for rudeness.


***

Nothing Bad Happens In Oak Harbour

Yesterday was a horrendous day for just about every person in this country and many people around the world.  Six teachers and 20 little children were murdered in Connecticut.  What can we make of it?  At this point I don't know.   It makes no sense.

But feelings are high.  It's a natural instinct to want to protect our own.  I heard a world renowned psychiatrist on TV last night say that the first thing he did when he heard the news was to call his kids.  I'm sure a lot of folks did that.

Most of us want to feel safe.  In my early life I lived in places that weren't safe.  I know that awful fear - for myself and my family.

Now I live in a gated condo community.  But when I started to close the drapes last evening I looked out and, directly in front of our door, were two squad cars.  In front of them was another car with the police officers and two young men standing outside the car.  Another police officer was searching the car.  When he finished the officer handcuffed one of the young men.

At that point I closed the drapes.  How was I feeling?  I felt pain and sorrow for the young man.  Did the officers find drugs or alcohol?  Stolen property?  Guns?  Was it something worse?  What I really wanted to do was to go down and talk with the officers and perhaps intercede in some way to assist the young man.

Because whatever the problem is, it didn't start and it won't end with this one event.

I live in a safe place.  A kindergarten through 4th grade school in Connecticut  is a safe place.  I guess we need to look deeper for the answers.


***

Peace on Earth, Good Will to All

Though we cannot think alike, may we not love alike?  May we not be of one heart, though we are not of one opinion?  Without all doubt, we may.  Herein all the children of God may unite, notwithstanding these smaller differences.  - John Wesley

My friend and neighbor, Bryan Fulwider, wrote a column in today's paper about a Habitat for Humanity house dedication.  This one is extra special because it was built by Christians, Jews and Muslims.  It's called Harmony House.

I love projects that get people together.  Despite all the scary talk about a "War on Christmas" I see good stuff happening all over the place this time of year.  A big example is what's going on up east in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy.

Even Billy Joel is coming out of hiding to be a part of a superstar fundraiser.

 Having experienced three hurricanes in a row in 2004, we Central Floridians know a little bit about what it means to have folks surround us with love.  After Hurricane Charley our front door was blocked by fallen trees.  Neighbors were there with chain saws before we could get out of our PJs.  And, by the way, we live in a diverse neighborhood.

Yesterday I attended my book club Holiday Luncheon.  What we have in common is that we're a bunch of smart, kind, fantastic looking old ladies.  But we are also diverse.  When we discuss great ideas we come from different places.  We don't always agree - but we've never had a fist fight - or any kind of falling out.

I continue to have faith that our president, house and senate will come together through mutual respect and compromise to get our financial problems solved.

Regarding the Wesley quote above:  Here's my definition of "the children of God."

Everybody!

***

Emotional Season

Most folks go kind of crazy at this time of year.  I was talking with friends a while back and several of us expressed some pain about families - namely our children.  Even though we're old and they're middle aged, we can still push each other's buttons.  And that's double true because we love them so much - and it's Christmas!

I was dreading a phone call I had to make this week but it ended up being just great.  Prior to making it I was thinking about one of my favorite poets, Emily Dickinson, and her poem about not worrying about stuff that might happen.

Tis harder knowing it is due,
Than knowing it is here. 

I like to picture Emily, the recluse, living out her life in the quiet of her parents home.  A perfect family.  Then yesterday I saw something that made me laugh out loud.  An ad for a book about Emily Dickinson.

LIVES LIKE LOADED GUNS, Emily Dickinson and Her Family's Feuds

....suggesting that her seclusion was due to her suffering from epilepsy, a highly stigmatized disorder in her day.  At the same time, the tensions within the household came from her brother Austin's adultery with the vivacious, ambitious, and talented Mabel Todd, who usurped control of the family. 

So there you have it.  Yet another example that there are no perfect families.  Isn't that comforting?

Happy Holidays to you and your loved ones.


***

Dave Brubeck

My granddaughter is attending the Paul Mitchell School.  A couple of weeks ago I enjoyed having her color and cut my hair.  But the music playing at blood vessel bursting high decimals was hard to take.

Every generation has it's favorite music.  I loved all kinds of music when I was young, including jazz.  My husband, Ken, and I, when we were dating and then newly married, loved to go to jazz clubs.  We liked smooth, mellow jazz.  It wasn't about drinking - or smoking.  I didn't do either.  But sitting with other folks listening to smooth jazz took me to another place.

I'm deeply grateful that I got to see the great Dave Brubeck.  He was one of a kind.  He died a few days ago.  I understand that many people have never heard of him but he put out one of the best selling jazz songs of all time,  "Take Five."

Brubeck was classically trained, and clean cut looking along with a clean cut lifestyle.  Very different from other jazz artists of the time.

My love of jazz faded over the years as other music took over.  But, nowadays, Dave and I play cribbage in the evenings listening to NPR jazz.  We both like it smooth and mellow.

Dave Brubeck was 91 when he died.  He left quite a legacy.


***

Elf on the Shelf

Beth Kassab used to be the financial writer for the Orlando Sentinel.  Then she was promoted to the prestigious columnist position where she writes about politics and other concerns we have regarding Central Florida.

Only today she wrote about "Elf on the Shelf."  But she's right on target because, I don't know about you, but this guy deeply concerns me.

This sweet little elf, who spends several weeks prior to Christmas sitting on a shelf in your home, comes with a story about how he flies back to the North Pole every night to report to Santa about how we've been behaving during the day.  Of course, when he arrives back he lands in a different place.

This doesn't seem like a hard thing to pull off except, as Beth explains, when some parents are dead tired at night and find it difficult to remember that the elf needs to be on a different shelf.  Every morning.  For over a month.

But then there are those households that take it up a notch.  Elf not only visits the North Pole but finds time to be mischievous when he returns by toilet papering the family room or messing up the kitchen or even making cookies and writing funny notes.  Every night!  For over a month!

This happens at my daughter's house.  It's exhausting just to witness the carnage.

Last year Dave and I drove to their home in Atlanta and planned to drive to the airport the next morning in order to fly to Chicago.  But when we got up and went out to the car we saw that the elves (yes, they have several) had vandalized our car and even removed parts of the engine.  We knew this because the "parts" were on the drive way.  They did look remarkably like items from the garage but we were assured they were  engine parts that rendered our car inoperable.

So the family had to drive us to the airport.  This is what they had insisted on the night before but we firmly nixed it.

I'm very nervous about what they'll do this Christmas. Both the elves and the family.

Beth Kassab has reason to be exhausted what with two tiny children, a husband and a brilliant career AND a mischievous elf.  But think about my Atlanta family and quadruple it.

Trouble is abrewin'



***

Four-Pronged Canes

Dave's grandson wrote him an hysterically funny note on his birthday advising Dave that he better not start using any of those "old people" things like telephones with big buttons and four-pronged canes.  He wants his grandpa to stay strong and healthy - and never get old.

We all want that.

But time is not on our side.  I announced to a group of people at dinner last week that, if I ever need a walker, I will gladly use it.  And that I want one that has a place for my books and a drink holder and a little container for flowers.  They all doubted me and asked that I sign an affidavit attesting to the above.

But I'm serious.  When I become incapacitated I will welcome all the help I can get.  My husband, Ken, went kicking and screaming into admitting his inability to walk.  He ruined many events for me, himself and others by refusing to use his walker or his wheelchair.  And I can't begin to count the spectacular falls.  Fortunately, he had bones like concrete.

Yesterday, when I was in the gym I talked with a man I see there often.  He's in his 50s and has, apparently, had a stroke.  Working out is a struggle but he does it - every day.  He has a great attitude, is an inspiration to me and others - and he uses a four-pronged cane.

So, I'm committed.  But, in the meantime, here's a photo of me taken in Visby, Sweden last June.  Don't mean to brag, but how about that posture?

P.S.  The word Gatukok is Swedish for hot dog stand.


***

Please Sir, May I Have Another?

Hungry kids are all around us.  Today's Parade Magazine has an interview with Illinois farmer Howard Buffett (son of Warren) about hunger in America.  He says what we've known forever.  There's enough food to feed everybody.  We just need a different way of distributing it.

And for that we need an attitude change.

We had a discussion this morning about "worthiness."  Are these folks "worthy enough" to receive my help?  Most people know that we'll never receive the blessing of giving with that kind of attitude.

The Parade article shared a story about Denise Cerreta who owns a restaurant called "One World Cafe."  The menu has suggested prices but folks are encouraged to pay whatever they feel like they're able to pay.

What a great attitude Denise has.  And the restaurant is doing well.

If you still get the paper - (so you still get your Parade Magazine) - dig it out and read the article.


***

Was Lincoln Sexy?

I've seen Doris Kearns Goodwin, who wrote Teams of Rivals:  The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln, being interviewed a couple of times.  On each occasion she said, "Yes, Lincoln was sexy."

After seeing Steven Spielberg's movie Lincoln, and, if by sexy, she means funny, warm, intelligent, loving, kind and tall, then I agree.  I was a little leery about seeing Lincoln because the length exceeds my two hour limit - but I hardly noticed.

Here's what struck me about the movie.  The vulnerability of President Lincoln both in his availability (he just walked out in the open with the folks) and in his determination to do what he thought was right - even though he was strongly opposed by the Democrats, and leaders in his on Republican Party. (For instance, they wanted to punish the South.  He refused.)

So how did he manage to win the Civil War AND pass the 13th amendment (freeing the slaves) at approximately the same time?  He did it by good natured persuasion and compromise.

This is at once a great and vast movie and a small, dialogue driven movie.  I thought I knew about President Lincoln but I learned a lot.   I learned about the man and I learned about his relationship with his wife, Mary Todd Lincoln.  And his children. And his country.

John Stewart on The Daily Show suggested that this year's Academy Award just be reworked into the image of Daniel Day-Lewis, who plays Lincoln.  And be done with it.

I tend to agree.


***

Superman, Welcome to My World

In yesterdays', Parade Magazine journalist Connie Schultz tells us that Clark Kent has quit the Daily Planet (again.)  But, apparently, this time he's going to be a blogger.

This saddens me, not as a blogger, but as an avid reader of newspapers.  I can understand that Clark is tired of having his stuff edited down to written sound bites.  As Schultz says, reporters have become stenographers.

I know they must feel that way sometimes but I love reading gutsy syndicated columnists Leonard Pitts and Eugene Robinson on the left, as well as Kathleen Parker and Cal Thomas on the right.  They make me a better person.

So, despite the title above, I agree with Schultz when she says, Superman....we're short on heroes these days.  We don't want you to be like the rest of us.

And I say the same thing to the four syndicated columnists I mentioned above.  Also to my local favorites, Scott Maxwell and Beth Kassab.

Hang in there with the newspaper for as long as you can.  We're all enriched and protected by you - whether we know it or not.


***

Frankenstein Turkey

I roasted a big turkey, with all the trimmings, every year for 34 years.  Then I stopped.  Haven't roasted one since and don't see it happening in my future, although I wouldn't rule anything out.

But I don't think it's a hard thing to do.  The instructions are right on the wrapping.  The turkey even has a little button in its belly that pops out when it's done.

I think folks have taken something pretty simple and invented ways to make it complicated.  We have barbecued turkey and deep fried turkey and Turducken (a chicken inside a duck inside a turkey.)  What's the point?

This morning I was listening to NPR folks discussing Julia Child's Thanksgiving Turkey.  She insisted that the turkey had to be cut apart, separating the backbone and then all dark meat from the white meat.  And then, after it's roasted, reassembling it.

Can you imagine wrestling a 20 pound raw turkey into all those pieces?  I can't.

It's sort of like Frankenstein.  You could (maybe) assemble a guy from a bunch of parts - but, again, what's the point?

Have a wonderful day tomorrow - Thanksgiving - and count at least ten blessings before you eat your turkey.


***

The Resurrection of the Body

This past Sunday my minister, Gary finished up the series called "The Need for the Creed."  For several weeks the ministers have dealt with The Apostles Creed.  Line by line.

Over the centuries folks tended to mingle (and mangle) different beliefs so every few hundred years creeds were written to let everybody know that "this is what Christians believe."  Period.

OK, here's my confession.  For several years I refused to say the second to the last line in the Apostles Creed.  "The resurrection of the body" just didn't make sense to me.  What body?  This body?  No, thanks!

In a post On October 13th titled "Near Death Experience" I quoted Harvard neurosurgeon  Dr. Eben Alexander in his new book "Heaven is Real" saying that our bodies inhibit our human consciousness rather than enhancing it.

British anthropologist, Chris Stringer has written a new book called "Lone Survivors - How We Came to Be the Only Humans on Earth."  He's saying that there were several kinds of humans in the beginning but, somewhere along the line, Homo sapiens won out - although we do have a little Neanderthal in us.

That explains some of our behaviors but confuses the "resurrection of the body" issue.

A few years ago I resumed saying the entire Apostles Creed.  I decided that, once again, I was thinking too small and that the resurrection of the body had a broader meaning - possibly broader than I could comprehend in this lifetime.

And this is what I heard Gary say on Sunday morning.   Resurrection of the body?  Yes!  But, please, not this one.


***

Who's Channing Tatum?

We all know that People Magazine has announced their annual - and much sought after - "Sexiest Man Alive" award.  I was not too excited because I don't know who Channing Tatum is.

Used to be that I was so happy for the recipient because I knew the actors - and how much it meant to them.  Like Harrison Ford, Richard Gere and Sean Connery.

And who can forget a couple of years ago when Matt Damon won.George Clooney and Ben Affect both let us know how he'd campaigned for it night and day.

Seriously, if they're going to pick the sexiest man alive, at least make it somebody I know.  And, by the way, how do they know this person is the sexiest?  What are their criteria?

My favorite People Magazine's Sexiest Man Alive was Mark Harmon ('86).  We all know that he's the son of Heisman Trophy winner and coach, Tom Harmon.  Mark's sister, Kristin, was married to Ricky Nelson.  And a bunch of other famous people are in his family.  Mr. Harmon is Hollywood royalty.

Mark's had a long and fairly distinguished acting career.  And his dad would be so proud to know that "Sexiest Man Alive" award helped.

He's coming up on ten years doing NCIS.  And, at 60 years old, he's still sexy.

Who is Channing Tatum?

***

I'm Not Seceding

It used to be that, right before a national election, folks would threaten to leave the country if their candidate didn't win.  Now we have a new twist.  Thousands of folks have petitioned to have their states secede from the union.  Six secession petitions have reached the threshold of 25,000 signatures.  Of course, Florida is one of those.  Following is my thoughtful response:

I'm neither seceding nor leaving. - No matter who we elect as governor of my state or president of the United States, I'm not going anywhere.  Always, the morning after the election, no matter who wins, I begin to think about how I can help them succeed.  (Not me secede.) Because that's what we need - for government to succeed.

I'm not changing churches. - If one or all of the ministers I'm crazy about should pick up and leave, or they continue to set the A/C at 52 degrees in the sanctuary, or they don't sing my favorite hymns - I'm not leaving - And, in fact, I'll continue to let them know how much I care for them.  And, although in my mind the United Methodist denomination occasionally makes some bonehead decisions, I'm always gonna be a Methodist.

I'm not leaving Dave.  OK, this seems like a no-brainer since he's practically perfect.  But what about when he gets old and has to use a Hoveround or falls in love with one of the Kardashians?  Too bad, Kim.  - I'm not going anywhere.

I'll always be there for my kids. - I love all of them like crazy but sometimes they seriously get on my nerves or cause me to lose a night's sleep. But there is absolutely nothing they could do to make me change. Same goes for grand kids and many of my friends.  Feelings are not as fierce but the commitment is there.

Along with the petitions to secede, the government received one for the president to "do the Hokey Pokey" on national television.  That one was most likely a joke.  But it wouldn't hurt all of us to, like Snoopy, do a little dance of joy once in a while.


***

We're a Mess

I've written a couple of times over the years about our (Florida's) inability to vote properly.  We all remember how we held up the election between Bush and Gore for several weeks.

This time I was excited because we heard for weeks prior to the current presidential election that those who live in the "I-4 Corridor" would decide this election.  I live less than a mile from I-4.  I'm in the corridor.

Oh boy, knowing that I, personally, was responsible for the election, I was nervous as I filled out my absentee ballot - all FOUR PAGES of it - and carefully mailed it the proper way.

But, as it turns out, my vote didn't count.  At all!  None of the I-4 Corridor votes counted.  Four days after the election we Floridians still had not gotten our vote counting  act together.  John King's map showed red states and blue states and then Florida hanging down there all yellow.  (Like the "hanging chads" from the past botched election.)

Embarrassing.  We contributed nothing, nada, butkus to the national election.  We were impotent.  How sad.

My personal apologies to both candidates and their spouses who broke their necks getting here over and over again.  You never knew when you were going to look up and see Ann or Michelle.  Dave and I were in a restaurant a couple of weeks ago.  Sitting next to us were state troopers all decked out in their best.  When we engaged them in conversation one of them told us they'd just rushed President Obama on to a plane so that he could deal with Hurricane Sandy.  Then he told us that, two days prior, they'd rushed Governor Romney onto his plane.  They all seemed proud.

I hope these Florida State Troopers still think that what they did, to get the candidates in and out quickly and safely, was important because it was.  But not as important as it should have been.


***

Dave's Surprise

This past Thursday Dave had a special birthday.  Several people worked hard to make it a very special three day surprise celebration. It worked.  Dave was clueless.

Here is one of the surprises.  There's a new restaurant on Park Avenue in Winter Park called Prato.  Dave loved walking by each week as it was coming together.  He loves the interior architecture.  So I decided we would have lunch there last Thursday.  Dave was aware of this.  But what he didn't know was that his daughter would fly in from Chicago to have lunch with us.

Of course you never know exactly when the plane will arrive so there was much texting back and forth.  Finally I received the text "Landed!"  Time for us to head to Prato.

The day before I had stopped into Prato and clued in the staff.  They were excited.

When Dave and I arrived the hostess sent us all the way to the back.  Dave said, "What's back here."  I said, "Turn around."  And there, scrunched down in a booth, was his beautiful daughter.

What a moment!  Couldn't have been better.  But it was just the beginning.

***

Flight

It's not spoiling anything for you to tell you that, in the new movie "Flight," Denzel Washington plays an alcoholic, drug addicted airline pilot.

This movie is gritty.  The sexual images and sexual language, not to mention the drug scenes, are pervasive.  So, would I recommend it for older teens?  Absolutely.  This movie, to me, is not about an airplane crash.  Although that part of it is intense and on the edge of your seat scary.

 It's about addiction.  It's clearly about self destruction.  And....my favorite movie theme...redemption.

We talked a good bit afterwards about whether or not it was realistic that the pilot could have accomplished the miracle  of landing the plane if he'd been sober.  My take is no, he couldn't.  But that doesn't mean that he didn't have a much greater chance of killing everybody on board every other flight he piloted drunk.

Makes me grateful for my neighbor who randomly blood tests professionals.  For instance, he has, just prior to take off, boarded a plane and blood tested the pilot and crew.

So, you pilots out there, thank you for not ever trying the stunt the Denzel Washington character pulled in the movie "Flight."


***

All Saints Day

Yesterday was the time on the Liturgical calendar when we remember our loved ones who've died.  What a moving service.  As you may remember, my Oldie, Harry Welch died in 2011, so his picture was on the big screen in the sanctuary, along with 25 other church members who've died within the year.  His laughing face made me all at once very sad and very happy.  

We have a columbarium (memorial garden) at the church.  My husband, Ken, is interred there.  Harry and Ken were great friends.  Later, Harry and Dave became great friends.  Well, after that initial meeting where Harry threatened Dave's life.  

If you don't take care of this woman, I have friends in Chicago!

Incidentally, Harry later learned that Dave has way more friends in Chicago than Harry did.  

When Harry made his arrangement to be interred in the columbarium, he was asked where he'd like his niche to be. 

On top of Ken Crossman, says Harry.

Harry had a great sense of humor, was very generous and very bossy.  And he usually got his way. 

***

Cruel Shoes

in 1977, long before the current extreme platform high heel craze, Steve Martin wrote a short story called "Cruel Shoes."  It was about a certain form of self inflicted torture and was hilarious.

In the story a young woman wants to be shown the "cruel shoes."  The clerk tries to talk her out of it, tells her they're not fit for humans, but she's undeterred.  She wants those shoes.  She puts them on, and, with her mangled feet bleeding, she crawls to the mirror and says, "I'll take them."

Sex and the City put Jimmy Choos on the map.  Women are now in full torture mode.  Why?  Medical folks tell us that they cause back, ankle, knee, muscle and tissue damage.

British women are now wearing the highest heels.  Here's a little chart for you if you want to fly over to make some purchases, or just watch the women walk around.

A couple of years ago my book club read a serious book about Japanese foot binding.  Little girls went through the hideous ritual of having all of their toes broken and then folded back.  Why?  Because it made them more attractive to men.  We all thought this was totally disgusting, all the while some of us (not me) were wearing stilettos.

You may look at this beautiful woman and fantasize about what she's thinking.  I KNOW what she's thinking!

I need an Advil or an epidural!


***

"The Sandcastle Girls" is Not a Beach Read

...we shot our heretical need
to see the horror of the past 
through a wide-angled lens
             Peter Balakain (but quoted from "The Sandcastle Girls" by Chris Bohjanian)

Eat your green beans.  Think of the starving Armenians.
            My Grandma

What do all of these names, Kardasian, Balakain, Bohjanian, have in common?  They all end in ian and that means they are most likely Armenian.

My book club's pick for this month is "The Sandcastle Girls."  I must tell you that I'd never heard of it.  Sounded like a fun book.  Maybe a beach read.

I picked it up from the library a couple of days ago and since then I've been searching the Internet, looking at the big map in the garage and talking with smart folks who know something about Armenia because this book is opening up my mind and my heart to a part of history I haven't really known much about.

It's not a beach read.  It's about the Armenian Genocide, when Turkey (around 1915, back when it was the Ottoman Empire) tried to wipe out all of the Armenians.

Like other genocides, it wasn't just the the killing.  There was the torture, rape and starvation that came before death. Initially, thousands of men were killed outright but the women and children endured worse.

"Sandcastle Girls" is a love story and an historical novel.  Early on, Elizabeth, a missionary from America, has arrived in Aleppo with her father to try to be of help.  Soon she sees a group of about 125 starving, naked women being marched through the center of town:  The guards beat the women and when they fall they yank them back up by their hair.  

From the little bit of additional research I've done, this seems like an accurate description of what was happening.

There are accounts in the book about how, at that time in history,  photography was very difficult and therefore, documentation was difficult.  This is sad because there are still those people today who say the Armenian Genocide never happened.

Can't help but think about how, now, almost everything that happens in the world is documented in real time.

I'm halfway through Chris Bohjalian's book, "The Sandcastle Girls."  It's going to take a while to finish because it keeps driving me to more research.

*** 

ARGO

In 1979, while the deposed Shaw of Iran was in the United States, Iranians stormed the American Embassy in Tehran and took all but six of the Americans hostage.  The six escaped out the back door of the embassy as the front door was being stormed.  They made their way to the the home of the Canadian Ambassador to Iran where they were kept in hiding.  A while later they escaped to Canada.

It wasn't until the story of their release was declassified by President Clinton that the world learned how they were freed.  I remember reading the story and not quite being able to get my head around it.

Iran was so hostile to America at that time that an American could not possibly have safely entered or left the country.  But a CIA guy hatched a scheme whereby he would pretend to be a Hollywood producer with six Canadian staffers scouting sites for a cheesy science fiction movie called ARGO.

Because almost any country in the world, no matter how much they hate America, loves Hollywood.

Dave and I saw the movie ARGO last night.  Not the science fiction one but the one that tells this unbelievable story about duping the Iranians and getting these six Americans out of the country.  Even though  we knew ahead of time how the story ended, we were on pins and needles throughout the entire film.

Directed by and staring Ben Affleck, the film reminds us of how volatile the middle east was at that time.  To me, it was a very real depiction of what was happening.   We need to be reminded that this is a very old crisis.  And we need to be reminded of our history in this area of the world.

Later, in January of 1981, the day of Ronald Reagan's inauguration as president of the United States, all of the American hostages were released.

I remember that day well because I was in the middle east at the time.  I was sitting in a restaurant in Jerusalem when a man ran in and shouted that the hostages  had just been released.  There was lots of commotion and then two Americans stood up and began singing "God Bless America."  And then every American in the restaurant stood up and joined them.

If you can get past the constant smoking, the liberal use of the F-word and horrible looking black beards (namely the one on Ben Affleck) you will be glad you saw this movie.  It will give you great insight into our current situation.


***

Scary Stories

It's almost Halloween.  One of my favorite holidays.  Dave and I walked and talked on Park Avenue this morning while watching little kids in costumes being treated by merchants on the Avenue.  One of the jewelers wore a very scary mask.

Dave has lots of stories.  None that I know of about Halloween but some very scary - to me!.  He gave me permission to share this one.  It's interesting in light of how protective we are of our kids these days.

When Dave was seven years old he was sent from Malaysia to the States on a freighter accompanied by a family he didn't know.  But that's not the scary story.

This is.

When the ship reached San Diego, little seven year old Dave needed to get to Kansas where his aunt would meet him.  Somehow a woman was found who was accompanying a corpse to the east coast.  She agreed to also look after little Dave.  So he, the woman and the corpse boarded the train to ride cross country.

When they reached Topeka, Kansas, Dave got off and was met by his Aunt Lora, whom he did not know at the time.  She took him to his Uncle Rod's (whom he did not know) home to spend the night before traveling on to Independence, Kansas where he would start a new life....

...as a skinny little kid with an English accent who'd never known life outside Malaysia and India and therefore had never seen a Kansas snowstorm.

But that's another scary story for another time.


***

Park Avenue - The Center of the World

Everything worth seeing eventually happens on Park Avenue and in Central Park.  No not the "Parks" in New York City.  I'm talking, of course, about charming downtown Winter Park, Florida.

This morning Dave and I attended a meeting at our church which is right around the corner from Park Avenue.  Afterward, we walked to the Avenue, sat outside at a little French restaurant and shared a croissant sandwich and a French pastry.  (Yes, it was to die for.)

We read in the paper just yesterday that Ann Romney was coming to Central Park to speak from the bandstand this afternoon at 4:00 P.M.  The park borders the West side of Park Avenue for about four blocks.  This is what much of the  East side looks like.

Not much happening when we arrived but as we ate our lunch, things started buzzing.  Guys with phones appeared.  Cars began filling up the side streets.  Park Avenue was blocked off and cars there began  disappearing.  Romney T shirted folks began showing up all over the sidewalk.

We walked around a bit.  Quite exciting.  This afternoon, downtown Winter Park will be one of the centers of the universe, in a way.

You know how much I love this place.  And how thrilling it is to have so many things happening.

But, like everyone else in the country and the world, I will be so happy when this campaign is over and we can all get back to the normal celebrations.


***

Questioning My Faith

Do you ever question your faith?  Or your lack of faith?  Or your core values?  I do it all the time.

A few weeks ago Dave and I saw a disturbing movie.  "The Master," directed by Paul Thomas Anderson.  It's about a guy who comes home from World War II a total mess - but then is taken in by a cult.  It's an expose of the beginnings of Scientology featuring a thinly veiled account of the life of L. Ron Hubbard.

(And here I thought "South Park" had already given us the full scoop on Scientology.)

But the thing is that, throughout history cults, built around the personality of a charismatic leader, have been popping up.  This was happening way B.C.

In the movie, Freddie, played by Joaquin Phoenix, has had so much pain and suffering, capped off by whatever atrocities he experienced in the war, that he's been reduced to living like an animal.  He's disgusting.  Then he is befriended by this charming cult leader, played by Phillip Seymour Hoffman, seen here.

As I said before, this film is disturbing and disgusting.  But I can't get it out of my head.  One reason is that I could see some similarities in this little band of elitist people to established religions.  The followers were willing to give up themselves and their money to this charming but silly con man, no questions asked.  People who questioned the cause were beaten up.

In the end Freddie turned his back on the cult.  But an interesting point that came to me days after seeing the movie was that, despite all the terrible mind control  games and manipulating going on,  he left the cult a little better person.

My take on that is that he was living totally alone in total chaos.  And a little family-like structure, no matter how sick, seems to trump that.

I'm not suggesting you see this movie.  Many of you would be offended by it.  More of you would be bored by it.  Most of you would leave the theater thinking what was that about?

As I said in the beginning, it made me, one more time, question my faith.  And one more time, the answer is yes.


***

My Name is Brad Pitt....

....and I'm a drug addict.

Last week when Eugene Jarecki's new film "The House I Live In" premiered in Hollywood to a very small audience, they were surprised to see Pitt walk out and, by way of introducing the movie, made the above statement.

The film is about the 40 years long failed war on drugs.  Those of you who've read this blog for a while know that I have big issues with the way we handle this problem...and other problems.  Namely, by throwing folks in prison.  If you are young, black, poor, and/or a veteran of any war since WWII - and you have a drug problem -  you're thrown in prison.

Here's an example of some positive results from this remedy for a serious problem:  More and bigger prisons, more money for both government and private prisons, more money for vendors, etc.

Here are some negative results:  Ruined lives and not even a dent in the drug problem.

Did you know that, traditionally, prosecution for using crack is many times more harsh than prosecution for using cocaine?  What's the difference?  None.  They're the same drug. It's just that one's used more by the poor and the other's used more by the well to do.

In his introduction Mr. Pitt goes on to say that he hasn't used drugs in many years but he could still go to almost any city in American and get any drugs a person could want within 24 hours.   Yes, he's Brad Pitt so he could get almost anything he wanted period - but his point is that this problem hasn't changed.

If you have the opportunity, please see this documentary "The House I Live In."  It will make you think.


***

Do What I'm Tellin' Ya!

What do these two guys have in common?

On Friday Dave and I saw two movies.  In the afternoon we went to the Enzian to see the new 2012 film "Arbitrage" with the yummy Richard Gere.

As Col. Potter used to say on MASH, "there aren't enough o's in the word smooth" to describe Mr. Gere.

That same night we went to bed and watched the 1950 version of  "Born Yesterday" staring the excellent but always scruffy actor Broderick Crawford.  And also staring Judy Holliday who won an Academy Award that year for this film.  It's one of my favorites.

In "Born Yesterday" Crawford plays an uncouth international junk dealing tycoon who yells at, threatens,and slaps people around.  Including Judy Holliday.  His favorite phrase is "Do what I'm tellin' ya!"

In "Arbitrage" Gere plays a smooth as glass, gentile but troubled hedge fund magnet.  He never raises his voice.  But he also expects all of the people around him to do exactly what he tells them to do.  And while I'm sure he'd never hit a woman, he does kill one.

Interesting to see these two movies (on the same day) with these two actors playing two sides of the same coin.


***

 

The Call

Dave and I often discuss the word "Calling."  What does it mean?  Folks usually think religious like "He's been called to the seminary....or the monastery."  Or, "She's been called to the convent.... or the mission field."

I think it's way more than that. It may be a spiritual concept but it can apply to many things.

This morning I read a chapter in my Joan Chittister book called "How Do I Know I'm Doing What I'm Meant to Do?" (With what poet Mary Oliver calls "your one wild and precious life.")  Most of humanity never even contemplates this.  Most get caught up in silly stuff or serious obligations way before they give it a thought.  But, in this chapter, Chittister gives us seven clues as to whether or not we're pursuing an authentic call.

1.  Are we looking for something that fits our skills not something that fits someone else's ideas of what they would like to see us do.   As a consultant, I used to work with plenty of unhappy folks who were doing work somebody else (parents mostly) decided was best for them.

2.  A real call in life is for something that goes beyond interest or ability.  A real call strikes white, hot passion.  Remember a few weeks ago I shared a story with you about a woman who feels this way about her job in a toll booth.  Which leads us to...

3.  My call is what drives me beyond both talent and passion to a sense of purpose.

4.  My call presents itself as a thorn in my heart as the sight of another's pain.  When I worked at a children's home in the 90s I was amazed to see upscale hairdressers arrive on campus (free of charge and at their on expense)  to do the hair and nails of these fragile kids for special events like first proms.

5.  When I am following my call, I lose all sense of time.

6.  I am as much expanded by whatever it is that I'm doing as it is by me.  I've certainly found this to be true in my work, even the "work" I'm dong right now as I'm typing this.

7.  To become what I am born to do, what I am uniquely capable of doing is, in the end, good for the soul as well as for the work.  It changes me.  I find out that happiness is a lot less and a lot more than I ever expected. 

Tomorrow morning Dave and I are taking our good friends to the airport for their flight to Kenya.  They're going with a team of medical professionals to work for a few days with children who, mostly because of the HIV/AIDS epidemic on the African continent, are orphaned and must care for themselves and their younger siblings.

Why aren't we going with them?  First, we're not qualified but also we're not called.  And you pretty much need to be called to do this.  I'm grateful that they are.


***

Near Death Experience

I've never had a near death experience - that I know of.  Over the years I've talked with folks who've told me they have. Some have seemed credible to me - some have not.  That's mostly been due to the person telling me.

Like most people, I've also read a few books on the subject.  I'm a logical person so I've questioned most of it.  When my husband, Ken, died, a couple of people gave me books about near death experiences.  They weren't helpful.

I'm not very Woo Woo. I have a strong belief in afterlife but I try to keep an open mind about what's real and what's not, in terms of evidence.  The vast majority of my evidence is from two thousand years ago.

All that said, this week's Newsweek magazine's front cover says "Heaven is Real....A Doctor's Experience of the Afterlife."

That's an intriguing cover for Newsweek.

Inside is an excerpt from a new book by Eben Alexander, an academic neurosurgeon at Harvard Medical School.

In his book titled "Proof of Heaven" Dr. Alexander tells a remarkable story of his journey to heaven while being in a coma for eight days.  It's a beautiful story.  He experienced amazing love.  

Not a particularly religious man prior to this experience, Dr. Alexander is changed.  He now says this.

The plain fact is that the materialist picture of the body and brain as the producers, rather than the vehicles, of human consciousness is doomed.  

He goes on to say....This new picture of reality will take a long time to put together....But, in essence, it will show the universe as evolving, multidimensional, and known down to its very last atom by a God who cares for us even more deeply and fiercely than any parent ever loved their child. 

The messages Dr. Alexander brought back with him are, in part,  "You are loved and cherished dearly, forever."  "You have nothing t fear."  If I ever have a near death experience, this would be exactly the same message I'd like to bring back.

***

Boundaries

Some folks kid me about not liking to hug.  It's not (altogether) true.  I do like to hug - just not people whom I don't know and want to hug me because they have some sort of agenda.

I used to know an usher who tried to hug every woman who entered the church. Not cool!

During the 80s the Charismatic Movement abounded in several denominations, including United Methodist.  A couple of times, when I went to the United Methodist Retreat Center to lead some other group, these charismatic groups would commandeer every entrance to the dining room and force us regular Methodists into bear hugs before we could enter.  Not cool!

While I've traditionally been a person who's tried to help break down all kinds of barriers, sometimes, walls, whether literal or metaphorical, are good things.

In the wonderful Robert Frost poem called "The Mending Wall," he deals with this very subject.   In the poem, he and his next door neighbor are undertaking their annual task of mending the stone wall between their properties.  They have to do this after hunting season because the hunters always damage the wall. But Frost  has ambivalent feelings.  He starts out saying:

Something there is that doesn't love a wall.

But his neighbor replies,

Good fences make good neighbors.

Frost goes on to say that it's not like they have livestock (cows) to protect.  "My apple trees will never get across..."  But his friend again replies,

Good fences make good neighbors. 

Walls, literal or metaphorical, protect.  But they also divide.  It's a trick sometimes trying to figure out how far to get into another guy's space.   It's true with countries and well as lovers.  Believe me, I know.  I like to discuss everything.  Immediately.

But, like Mr. Frost, I need to be sensitive about who I'm walling in and who I'm walling out.

***

Let Me Tell You How to Vote!

I just had a phone call from Stan Van Gundy,  former coach of The Magic.  He wants me to vote YES on one of the many, many amendments to the Florida Constitution that are listed on our ballet this time around.

While I was on the treadmill this afternoon I listened to several scenarios regarding the "Fiscal Cliff" that we'll all be falling off of at the end of 2012 if we don't vote right.

But it's too late.  I received my absentee ballot in the mail yesterday.  It's done.

How are you deciding on the candidates and issues?  My late mother-in-law, Ken's mom, used to vote based on who was better looking.  She would have had a problem with Bush/Gore, because I think they (at that time) looked a lot alike.

Some folks are voting based on who most scares the bejeebers out of them.  Some folks vote the way somebody else tells them to, or the way their parents voted.  Lots of folks vote for who they think will make them richer.  Some folks vote a straight party ticket - so they just make one decision and go for it.

Here's what I did.  I researched every candidate - and every amendment.  It's so much easier now that we have the World Wide Web. It  would be easier still if I just voted my prejudices.  But I tried very hard to be brave, to vote my values, as a woman, a Christian, a person who is supposed to care about everybody in the world.

Because, of course, our leadership does affect the whole world.

But here's the thing.  I don't believe that the world as we know it will come to an end if the wrong folks get into office.  We have some significant issues - but  I'm not leaving the country if my candidates don't get in.

I have faith that, no matter who's elected, we'll eventually be OK.

But I think my vote is very important.  That's why I've used my # 2 pencil, put 65 cents worth of stamps on the envelope, and followed all the other instructions to the letter.

It's done!  So all of you candidates who keep calling me....you can stop...because it's done.


***

"You Always Have to be Right About Everything"

Recently a professor at Harvard Divinity School identified a scrap of papyrus that (she's saying) said:  "Jesus said to them, 'My wife...'"

This "news" has stirred up a little controversy - but mostly jokes.  Mostly bad jokes.  I've been a little offended by some of them but, for the most part, they've been gently poking fun at Jesus - and at the professor with the scrap of papyrus.

And now in this week's New Yorker, Paul Rudnick writes a very funny (I think) "Shouts & Murmurs" column about Jesus and his wife, Melissa.

It's mostly about Melissa and her frustration with falling for a guy who doesn't have a job - but wants everybody to love and respect each other, share in the Lord's bounty and bring peace to the world.

Melissa is intrigued but her head keeps telling her "Don't lend him money."

When Jesus attracts hundreds of followers, Melissa worries about where they'll all sit and what if they run out of "dried figs and almonds?"

When Jesus and Melissa have a misunderstanding, Melissa says in frustration, "but I guess you always have to be right about everything."

And so on ...

I feel reasonably sure that Paul Rudnick isn't trying to teach us any lessons here but in reading this piece I could so easily identify with Melissa.

Like getting caught up in the ordinary when Jesus is dealing with the ultimate.  And the "...having to be right about everything" statement.  I'm comforted by that most of the time but  - sometimes - I just want to roll my eyes.



***

Hannibal Square

Gentrification - changes that result when wealthier people acquire property in low income communities...This generally results in the displacement of the poorer residents, who are unable to pay increased rent or house prices and property taxes. On Friday David and I spent the afternoon at Hannibal Square, located in the heart of West Winter Park, a traditionally black community.  It was a moving experience for me. More than 125 years ago the black families who lived here provided a ready source of labor for building the exquisite city of Winter Park. West Winter Park, located on the other side of the railroad tracks, stayed deeply segregated into the 1960's. And the center of activity in West Winter Park was Hannibal Square.   From it beginnings, although poor compared to Winter Park, Hannibal Square was rooted in faith, family, and community.  The west side was characterized by high levels of education, business and home ownership.  On the Square, on any given day you could find a group of old black men sitting outside an open barbecue pit, philosophizing and playing checkers.   But, eventually, business folks in Winter Park began encroaching on West Winter Park.  Developers began buying up the small homes of folks who had financial troubles.  In the 1990s my husband Ken and I along with other folks from both sides of the tracks formed a group called "Bridge Builders" to try to help West Winter Park, especially Hannibal Square, retain it's identity. One of the goals was to have a history center where the stories of these folks would be preserved.   Eventually Ken became too ill to carry on.  I gave up the fight in order to care for him.  Many of my friends felt defeated.  Folks in my church worked hard on bridge building but, on the other hand, I heard a man in my own church say "that land is too valuable for those people to have."   It broke my heart.   Hannibal Square is now a happenin' place.  Following is quoted from it's website.  Visit Hannibal Square...Enjoy fine dining, designer fashions, stylish home furnishings, fine art and unique gifts.  While you're here pamper yourself at some of the top skin care spas and hair salons.  When I'm dining with friends in a fine restaurant at Hannibal Square, they usually just don't understand why I'm sad. But here's some good historical news.  There is now a Hannibal Square Heritage Center where those strong folks from years ago have provided a collection of photographs and oral history as told be the people who experienced it.   I hope, when you visit us here in central Florida, (as everybody does eventually) that you'll stop in at the Heritage Center at Hannibal Square - and then have dinner at one of the fine restaurants. ***

'

The Murder Gene

I just finished reading William Landay's novel, Defending Jacob.  It's the first novel I've read that deals with the so called "Murder Gene."

While, to my knowledge, it's not yet a legal defense here in the United States, some scientists have identified five genes linked to violent behavior.
 
Defending Jacob was one of those novels I had difficulty putting down.  I read it in three days - and that's almost a record for me.  (I can't sit and do anything for long.)  But then, after a while, the more I read, the more frustrated I became.  But I thought the ending would make it all worthwhile.  Not so.  The ending, for me, went from frustrating to maddening.

First, from the get-go, I could not understand how these two intelligent, loving parents could be so clueless about their kid.  Then I couldn't understand how they could be such  irresponsible enablers.

But the book has made me think.  And isn't that the big purpose of good fiction?

Here's what I'm thinking.  Am I responsible for my decisions - for how I live my life?  Or am I a total slave to my internal make up?  I understand that it's complicated.  After a lifetime of self discovery, I could, if I wanted to, come up with a pretty good case for why I should be kind of screwed up.  I think most of us could.

When the life story of Florida's celebrated first female serial killer, Aileen Warmus, was made public a few years back, I had great sympathy for her but I had no doubt that she needed to be held responsible for what she did.

I don't believe that "The murder gene made me do it" is a good excuse.  For every mean, destructive person in the world there are others - who have similar genes - who've lived responsible, life affirming lives.

I believe we always have choices.  I believe we all have an opportunity for "do overs."

I believe in the changed life.


***