Pull Yourself Together

I knew today would be tough.  After all, how good could a day that demands imbibing only clear liquids be?  And reading a bunch of schmaltzy posts on Facebook yesterday - tributes to deeply loved but dearly departed fathers - has left me feeling vaguely maudlin. 

My antidote to feeling out-of-sorts consists of doing productive activities.  Cleaning the guest room carpet with Resolve (good stuff!).  Balancing the checkbook.  Perusing Amazon for interesting books I can then reserve from the library for free. Keeping busy also helps to take one's mind off of solid food.

I ran across this one - Pull Yourself Together - which fit my mood completely but on further inspection is not my cup of tea (tea, a clear liquid I can have today, hmmm).  But I did love the words of wisdom from the book's description: life may not be exactly what you dreamed, but you’ve just got to keep on stumbling.

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Stumble on I shall  ;-)

Tzedakah

I hope there is a special place in Hell for so-called "charities" that collect donations from well meaning souls and proceed to line their own pockets with millions.  Better yet, I hope there are places in our prison system.  If not, perhaps I can start a charity of my own.  I assure you, I would use every dime to get these no-goodniks put away for a long time.

Thanks to some great but I suspect very tedious work on the part of journalistic investigators we now have a list of the Fifty Worst Charities in America.  Luckily, I have never heard of (or donated to) any of them.  Eleven of the worst charities, more than 20%, are based here in Florida, the scam and flimflam capital of the world. 

I believe in Tikkun Olam, the concept that it is our duty to try to heal the world, and in Tzedakah, which does not mean charity but rather justice.  But I choose my donation dollars very carefully.  I fully support the kids' annual run for Breast Cancer.  I bought 16 boxes of Girl Scout cookies this year (haha more for me than for them) and I slip a few bucks to disabled and wounded Veterans groups. 

It is infuriating that so many bad apples are making the work of those who are truly dedicated to helping others more difficult.  Those guys are goniffs on a level with Madoff.

:-(

Father's Day

This week I got to see again first hand what a fantastic father Scott is.  One of the things he's done for his kids is to sign up for the Disney Vacation Club for which he pays a bundle but gets super-fun vacation experiences at least twice a year.  Kyra and Carter have enjoyed oodles of Disney cruises, Disney character meals, Disney rides and Disney souvenirs as well as trips to places like Hawaii and Arizona.

September will be twenty years since my Dad passed away.  We never went to Disneyland and our only "vacation" was an overnight trip to Springfield to see Lincoln's log cabin and city homes.  But Dad did take me to Grant Park (via bus) to see the colors change at night in Buckingham Fountain. He took me to downtown Chicago and to Manny's Delicatessen on Roosevelt Road and to the Grant Park band shell to see Queen Elizabeth and to the Lincoln Park Zoo to feed the animals.  He would pick me up from school every Wednesday (his day off) and take me home for lunch (heaven!)  

He walked with me to shul on the High Holidays and said my prayers with me every night.  He taught me to appreciate poetry and the French classics (Dumas and Hugo).  He took me for square ice cream scoops at the Cock Robin on Milwaukee Avenue and hiking at Starved Rock State Park.  He had a telescope and he showed me the planets and stars and constellations in the night sky.  He knew all their names.

Happy Father's Day Dad.  I never did miss Disneyland...

:-)

Twenty-Five Years Ago Today

I am reading a book called Twenty-Five Years Ago Today (only 99 cents for the Kindle edition!) about an intrepid reporter who writes a column of the same name and is intrigued by a cold-case murder.

It got me to thinking about where I was and what I was doing on June 14, 1988.  With a little help from Bing I learned it was a Tuesday so I am pretty sure I was hard at work at Kemper Insurance Company in Long Grove Illinois as the Claims Systems Manager.  I probably was working on the new distributed claim reporting system "FOCUS" (Friendly Online Claim User System) that gathered data daily from our dozens of regional offices. These claims would be number crunched in batch mode at night, "real time" processing being quite a ways off in the future.  I went home after work to the custom home on two acres that we'd built the year before, also in bucolic Long Grove. 

The Big Story of the day was this:  A wildfire started in Montana just north of the boundary for Yellowstone National Park. Eventually, over 750,000 acres of Yellowstone – 36% of the park's area – burned before firefighters gained control in late September.  And a few days later came this news: Five workers died from exposure to poisonous gas at a metal-plating plant in Auburn Indiana in the worst confined-space industrial accident in U.S. history.

Today's Big Stories - June 14, 2013: 1) Two people have died in the 15,700-acre wildfire that has forced the evacuations of about 38,000 people in the Colorado Springs area.
2) A ground-rattling explosion Thursday at a Louisiana chemical plant ignited a blaze that killed one person and injured dozens of others.

A little eerie, no?

I Heart Make-up

You would have thought that after I retired I would give up or drastically reduce my make-up routine.  Why go through all that fuss when you are basically shlumping around the house or visiting Wal-Mart?  I certainly envisioned that as a possibility.

The truth surprised me.  I like make-up more than ever. 

A few years ago my cousin shlepped me to Macy's and had me "done" by the Lancome make-up "artiste".  I wound up spending about $300. on new cosmetics.  I suspect she thought my look sucked or perhaps it looked a little dated.  I am not sure and I really don't want to know.  I am happy when I look in the mirror and that's all I need to know.

Never again will I succumb to fancy ads and glittery packaging.  My favorite brands are E.L.F., New York Color, Wet And Wild and anything else that costs $1, $2 or $3 buck a pop.  And now I see that other ladies on the web have validated my choices!

Here is the most important thing to remember about make-up.  You will look fabulous if you just get up in the morning and put it on.

;-)

All My Records

I use social media carefully, eschewing Twitter and LinkedIn and setting all the privacy indicators on Facebook as high as possible.  But I realize that my attempts are futile.  I am not surprised to learn that everything I've emailed or texted and everyone I've called to chat with is stored in some gigantic database in some massive Federal data farm.

I must admit I am slightly paranoid and I use old fashioned snail mail to send in our annual tax forms to the IRS.  I figure if I post them electronically it will be much easier for my sensitive information to be stored electronically.

Being an IT professional for over thirty years, I know what access to data means.  Occasionally I was asked to extract an employee's records or to do a sweep of their computer.  Being a Claims Systems Manager for healthcare and insurance companies meant I could get my hands on someone's personal data easily.  Of course, I took this responsibility very seriously.

It's a new world out there.  Give it up if you think your purchases, preferences, peeps and peccadilloes are not out there somewhere for others to see.  My best advice?  Live clean and try to stay under the radar.

;-)

A Day in June

What is so rare as a day in June?
Then, if ever, come perfect days;
Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune,
And over it softly her warm ear lays;
Whether we look, or whether we listen,
We hear life murmur, or see it glisten

This poem by James Russell Lowe was bouncing around my brain today because, after all, it was a perfect June day.  Guess what?  I even remember the first time I read it.  It was on a beautifully illustrated calendar, every month featuring a different apropos snippet of poetry.

I only recall a few more from that calendar, like this old nursery rhyme, author unknown:
Down, down, yellow and brown,
leaves are falling all over town

and this one from The Children's Hour by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow:

From my study I see in the lamplight,
Descending the broad hall stair, Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra And Edith with golden hair.
You can't blame me for not remembering more.  The beautiful calendar that I loved was from 1959.   ;-)

Smoke and Fire

So I opened up my big mouth (actually my ability to type) and responded to an article in the Huffington Post by Rabbi Shmuely Boteach.  The Rabbi was defending the nomination of Samantha Power by President Obama to replace Susan Rice as US Ambassador to the United Nations.

Ms Power has (at best) a checkered history of comments about Israel, the Palestinians, and American Jewry.  My comment was simply that the Rabbi should not be so quick to think Ms Power is a staunch supporter of Israel based on a closed-door meeting where she was able to summon a great deal of emotion including (the always effective) tears streaming down her face.

I freely admit I am not an expert on Ms Power's positions, writings, speeches and other manifestations of her opinions.  I do not care to examine the nuances of her many remarks and try to extract what she really meant to say.  But I do know that where there is so much smoke there is bound to be a little flame, if not a raging forest fire.  And since the position of US Ambassador to the UN is our country’s most important diplomatic post I for one would like her position on Israel to be crystal clear and on-the-record.

Brit Milah

I am going to a Bris tomorrow afternoon, the Jewish rite-of-passage for one-week olds. The Cantor has welcomed another grandson and I am happy to be one of the few invited guests from the shul.

I, of course, will not actually be watching the Big Event, preferring to hide out in the kitchen next to the kichel and rugelach.

Mazel Tov!

;-) 

Hello? Heaven?

Hi Honey, it's your Yartzeit again, seven lonely years without you.  I miss you so much.

I was thinking about all the years we had together and all the secrets we shared and all the ups and downs we went through.  We had some good times didn't we?

Remember putting up dozens of orange decals on the yellow kitchen cabinets in your first apartment?  You scrubbed the tops which I swore had to be painted black but you said no, it was just decades of dirt.  You were right.

And remember putting up that hideous flocked contact paper on our apartment walls?

Remember when we were on the phone describing the new dress we each had bought that day and realized we both had bought the exact same dress?

Remember the New Years Eve when you dropped us off at the airport four hours early for a trip to Las Vegas and we somehow managed to miss our flight and then showed up on your doorstep again?

Remember when we turned our backs for split second and Scott crawled halfway down the mall in two seconds flat? I was frozen with fear.  A good person stopped him and said she knew a crazy Mom would be close behind.

Remember our two Camaros?  Ours was white and yours was red.  We were HOT! 

I remember your dogs - how you loved animals!  How could I forget Faygel - he would poop discreetly behind that blue and green sofa. And Nikki and Max.  And your parrot Popeye!  And Cookie, your Siamese with palsy that you refused to have put to sleep after the vet botched her spaying.  Dan still takes such good care of her.

Remember when I threw my wedding bouquet right at you?  I don't think the other ladies liked that one bit!

Remember when you called to tell me you had a lump in your breast and you knew it was very bad but you didn't want to go to the doctor until after the holidays because you didn't want to spoil everyone's good time?  Remember when you asked me to take care of the kids and I said I think I need the kids to take care of me?  You said "no, they need you Ev".

I love you my Best Friend Forever.  Wish you were here...