Friday, August 17, 2012

Elvis Has Left...

Elvis Presley passed away on August 16, 1977. While that wasn’t one of his best days, I happen to hold that date in particular fondness.

When my brother and sister were young, they often would visit for a week or so with my husband and I during the summer while they were out of school. It was a novelty for them to spend time in New York, where we lived at the time, and they were good company for us and our new baby boy. We loved having them around, they were fun kids.

The summer of 1977 was a memorable one. The Son of Sam was still at large. There was a blackout that July that lasted for days and resulted in horrific rioting and looting in the city. It seemed as though it was HOT all the time. The Yankees were in their 75th season and they were on their way to another World Series. So when my brother Tom came to stay with us that August, it was only natural to head up to the Bronx to catch a game.

Even though he was just 14, Tom was one of the funniest people I knew. On the train he kept up a running monologue that was hilarious, relating a complicated saga that involved my father, a pile of laundry and an alarm clock that had a short in it. I cannot for the life of me remember how these things were connected, but he had us laughing so hard we were crying. There was an older black lady sitting on the seat behind us, trying to pretend she wasn’t listening to him. She was actually shaking silently with laughter as he pricelessly mimicked my father.

The game itself was a nail biter. The Yankees were leading by 5 until the ninth inning when the Chicago White Sox pulled ahead and the score was 9 to 10. It looked like the game was over. But Chris Chambliss hit a two run homer in the bottom of the ninth and the Yankees ended up winning 11 to 10.

So we were in great spirits as we headed home. On the train, a man was reading the late edition of the Post. It was flopped over so you could only see part of the headline, “ELVIS AT”, but not the other two words. So Tom starts leaning over to try to read the rest. He kept sinking down and down until finally he was practically lying on the subway floor. At that point the man slowly lowered the paper and stared down at him. Without moving Tom looked up at us and said “DIES 42”. And the three of us got hysterical laughing. Poor Elvis.

Of course thirty five years on and Tom is a grown man now, with a family of his own. He is still hilariously funny and witty and I love him. But we had a disagreement ten years ago over my mother’s seventieth birthday party and he hasn’t spoken to me since. I’ve made overtures, without any luck. I miss him terribly.

I note the anniversary of Elvis’s death every year for a different reason than everyone else. I think of a fine, long ago summer evening and three people who no longer exist as they were. I gratefully remember my little brother, my handsome young husband and my sweet naïve self as we shared a few happy hours filled with fun and affection and innocent laughter.


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Sunday, August 12, 2012

Class of 1972

Photo courtesy of RBC website.


This coming weekend I will be attending my 40th high school reunion. ha ha ha ha  That is REEE-DICULOUS!! There is no way it has been FORTY YEARS since I graduated from Red Bank Catholic High School. Why, that would make me fifty seven years old.

Oh, wait. I AM fifty seven years old. How did that happen?!?!

In the past forty years I have gone through four years of college, married, learned to drive, had four children, moved nine times, traveled, graduated from nursing school, buried my husband, got my Master’s degree, built a successful career, lost my beloved grandparents, my best friend and my mother, fell in love and had my heart broken, converted from Catholicism to the Episcopal Church, bought my dream home, became disabled by multiple sclerosis, became estranged from almost all of my family and, finally, have focused once again on writing, which I have known since childhood I was meant to do.

I guess that is a way to make forty years go by quickly.

Those are just the most momentous occurrences in my personal life. That summary does not reflect all the wonderful friends I have made along the way and still have. It doesn’t include all the quiet, lovely moments that bring true joy to our lives: my children’s, and, now, my grandchildren’s laughter, good books, perfect cups of tea, impeccable martinis, shared confidences, spontaneous expressions of affection, bonds of understanding and empathy. There have been so, so many of these over forty years as well.

The classmates I will gather with are a big-hearted, kind, generous group of people. Some have been close for all these years, some of us have rarely seen each other, but the welcome is warm for everyone. There is no teenage angst, insecurity or need to be cool. That is, thank heaven, all in the past. Now we meet on common ground, veterans of forty additional years of struggles and accomplishments, with an appreciation of how short life is and what is truly important. I think it is safe to say that for all of us, it has been quite a ride.

Hooray that we’re still here to celebrate surviving and thriving.

In 1972:

The French Connection won the Best Movie of the Year.

The Candy Man by Sammy Davis was the number one song the week we graduated.

Gas averaged 55 cents a gallon.

Average new home cost $27, 550.00.

Average income was $11,000.

Wrangler jeans cost $12.00.

There was no Monmouth Mall, it was still the Monmouth Shopping Center.

Unemployment was 5.9%.

The Newark Evening News and the Red Bank Register were still being published.

Carole King swept the Grammy’s and won Record (It’s too Late), Album (Tapestry) and Song of the Year (You’ve Got a Friend).

First class stamps cost 10 cents.

Gallon of milk was $1.10.

All in the Family was the number one TV show.

And the Casey’s Class of 1972 entered history.

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Friday, August 3, 2012

BlogHer Conference

I am very happy to currently be in New York City attending BlogHer'12, a conference for women bloggers. The keynote opening speaker yesterday was President Obama himself, through live video feed from the White House. Today's keynote speaker was Martha Stewart, tomorrow will be Katie Couric.

Please check out my blog posts about the conference here: www.msrenegade.com

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Tuesday, July 24, 2012

It‘s Good to Be the Queen

 
My dear friend Mrs. Oppenheimer and I (She calls me Mrs. Oppenheimer, too.  It’s a long story.) had a running joke that there had been a huge cosmic error along the line and somewhere someone was leading our Princesss lives while we were stuck in their miserable peasant existence.

Okay, we weren’t really joking.

But who knew someone was way ahead of us in reclaiming their royal turf by writing Queen of Your Own Life: The Grown-up Woman’s Guide to Claiming Happiness and Getting the Life You Deserve?  They were so ahead of us the book was published two years ago and this is the first I’m hearing of it.

I haven’t read it yet.  It does appear to have a few strikes against it for a literary snob like me.  For one thing, it is published by the same publisher who puts out Harlequin romances.  And one of the authors was behind the marketing of the South Beach diet.  That just strikes me as a little shallow.  But the chapter titles are promising.  Here are a few: "Build deep, fulfilling friendships with other women (Choosing your court)"; "Establish firm boundaries that will strengthen all your relationships (The Huns are at the Border)" and "Discover the simple trick to finally being happy (the subtitle is a little scatological, so I will discreetly allow you to discover it for yourself.)"

Even though I haven’t read it, and it appears to be lightweight, it clearly has some good thoughts, presented in a tongue-in-cheek manner.  I have maintained for decades that my women friends have been the core of my life.  I don’t know what I would have done without their love, encouragement, support, laughter and wisdom.   I swear by boundaries, having had numerous Huns at the border throughout my life.  They have usually been relatives.  Stymied by limits, now they are relatives who no longer speak to me.   It is sad having no one show up for your daughter’s wedding from your side of the family.  But it beats the alternative of drama, Gaslight-like craziness, veiled criticism, overt jabs and, in some cases, flat out meanness.  Although the entertainment factor has been reduced dramatically.

I am still working on the simple trick of finally being happy.  I was getting there.  In my late forties I was more accepting of myself and less judgmental in general than ever.  I felt very peaceful with where I was in life.  I loved my job.  I bought my dream home.  The kids were happy and on their way to great adulthoods.  Getting sick shook that satisfaction and sense of where I was in the world right out of me.  My career, my finances, my family and, obviously, my previously rude good health, have literally imploded over the past seven years.  I am having a hard time picking up the pieces.  I have a simple affirmation at the top of my blog “Remember this every day: You are fabulous.  Believe it. You are. ”  I truly do believe that – for everyone but me.  As I struggle to cope with this horrible disease, I am ashamed of my weakness and lack of grace and acceptance.  Other people tell me I inspire them and I have no clue what they are talking about.  Inspiring?  I think I am pathetic.  But I keep trying to hold my head up and focus on the positive where I can.  Trying is about all I can manage right now.  It is constant work and I back slide all the time.  But I do believe YOU are fabulous, you Queen, you!  (Or King, as the case may be.)

I'm looking forward to it.   If you are interested, you can find it here:

 

If nothing else it will be a fun read and a good reminder that we all deserve the best.  Here is their website, http://www.queenofyourownlife.com/, which includes a link to create your own coat of arms, http://www.queenofyourownlife.com/wp-content/uploads/COAT_OF_ARMS_P.jpg.  How could I resist wasting hours of Photoshopping (well, Paint.net, actually, because it is free)?!?!  So here is mine:


The field is green for Ireland, where all but one ancestor, my father’s father, emerged from.  The ordinary is red for the Red Cross, because I am in dire need of aid.

The barrel in the center is for Cooper, the barrel maker.  I have two ferocious cats as supporters, and my symbols are a quill and book for scholarship, a bee because I have always been as busy as one, a celtic harp for love of music and yarn and a sewing needle for love of fiber arts.  Two shamrocks adorn the top next to my crown.  And my motto is on the bottom (nod to Monty Python): “Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition.”  Because I have never expected it but have been blindsided by its equivalent more times than I care to remember.

Long live each Queen!
 
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Monday, July 9, 2012

Squandering the Gift of Free Speech (A Soap Box Post. Sorry. :( )


I am posting this at the risk of alienating some people who matter to me.  However, I think the ones who matter most will get it and are smart enough to care.  It may come across as naïve or pompous or arrogant, but it is truly from my heart.

I know many good, kind and generous people.  People who love and honor their spouses.  People who have been proud and loving parents.  People who have a deep devotion to their church and to their God.  People who are generous to charities, committed to protecting the environment and are nice to animals.

With the presidential election looming, these same people, people I ordinarily like and sometimes admire and occasionally am related to, are frequently posting things like this on Facebook (I have not changed spelling or punctuation):

  •  Cartoons depicting the President being pulled over in Arizona with an officer demanding birth certificate and proof of citizenship.
  •   “Somewhere in Kenya a village is missing it’s idiot.”
  • A condemnation of Michelle Obama for buying a snack apple pie.
  • An accusation that President Obama does not attend church.
  • Direct quote: “note to self - do not discuss, debate, or simply point out something to a liberal. they just can't comprehend. always was always will be.”
  • Anti-gay rhetoric and virulent anti-Obama, anti-Democrat and anti-‘liberal’ rhetoric. And this same person also posted a picture that says “Karma: what goes around comes around/Keep your circle positive / Say good words, Think good thoughts, Do good deeds”  She clearly does not recognize the irony.  (emphasis mine)
  • This is also the person who has flat out stated: “I will not be voting for Obama and I will begin posting why. If you like President Obama and plan on voting for him, please delete yourself from my page OR remain silent. Any negative comments or offensive posts will be deleted, so will the offender who posted them.” (emphasis mine)
  •   Calling the First Lady of the United States “Moochelle” “…because she is a cow.”  And getting numerous “likes” and “lol’s”. 
  • A picture of a dog with the saying “I don’t always pee on political yard signs but when I do they say Obama.”  We are talking about the President of the United States here.  Figuratively urinating on the President of the United States.
  • A picture of Monica Lewinsky with a saying about Democrats that is so vulgar I refuse to repeat it.
  •   “The Obama Value Meal, order anything you want and the guy behind you has to pay for it.”  Attributed to Conan O’Brian, but that is not correct, he never made this ‘joke’. (Verified with Snopes.)
  • Sneering references to the ‘scum’ on Medicaid, lazy slobs taking handouts while these upright, hardworking citizens have to carry them on their backs.  They apparently forget that I, their friend &/or relative, a person who worked hard my whole life, am now a disabled Medicaid recipient.  And that they could become the same in a millisecond.

Reading these things is painful and embarrassing.  To me, these are prime examples of what is wrong with our current political process and why I despair of any solution.  People are not concerned citizens.  They are rage-filled, hate-spewing, knee-jerk responding citizens.   It is one thing to state your opinion about political issues, using facts, and alternately being open to someone else’s perspective.  It is quite another to state it is your way or the highway and then spout half-truths to flat out lies and not bother, or care, to find out what the facts are. 

I was not a fan of George W. Bush, to say the least.  And I was not shy about saying so.  But I would never have endorsed a laughing reference to a dog urinating on his name, and by extension, him.  I would never have referred to Laura Bush as a ‘cow’.  I respected her as a dignified, educated woman who was devoted to her family.  Exactly like Michelle Obama. 

Many of these Facebook criticisms are distorted factoids.  The Obamas go to church.  Perhaps not every Sunday, but neither do a lot of otherwise very good people.  There are numerous images of them attending services at the beautiful St. John’s Episcopal Church, which is right behind the White House.  They have worshipped in other churches as well.

President Obama has a valid birth certificate and is a legitimate citizen of this country.  His birth announcement was  in several Hawaiian papers when he was born.  Do people really think a conspiracy could stretch back that far and be that widespread?  Come on.  Consider it from this base but true perspective: people are blabbermouths.  A secret like that would be just too juicy to keep.

There are many more such mis-statements or attributions.  But my main point here is the lack of civility, the absence of reasonable, objective consideration.  It is bad enough to lump all Republicans or Democrats into labeled cubbyholes, leaving no room for compromise or discussion.  But to belittle people who hold high office, and doing the same to their unfortunate families, is simply unproductive disrespect.

I am no saint.  Search my blogs and Facebook pages and you might find the occasional snide political remark.  But I have become more uncomfortably aware that it is too easy to turn the tables on that sort of commentary, too easy to have it turned back on you.   Because they are cheap shots.  And I have become increasingly dismayed by the ugliness of the messages, on both sides, and the unfairness of them.  Especially, now, for me, the cracks about lazy, greedy recipients of Federal benefits.  

It is an important part of the democratic process to be openly critical when needed.  I do want politicians called on their actions.  Or inactions.  But called respectfully.  I want civil dialogue, not tit-for-tat sniping.  I want responsibility and caring for the future of America.  It is going to be an expensive future, without a doubt.  Being the best comes at a price.  But cost does not have to be financial hemorrhage.  Bipartisan, rational oversight of government programs can achieve responsible spending.   

Why is everyone not demanding an end to the name calling, the mocking, the blame?  It distracts us from the true issues.  Michelle Obama ate an apple snack pie?  Ok, she is a champion of healthy eating and reducing child obesity.  But what was probably a 150 calorie snack was newsworthy?  It is shameful that non-incident was a focus instead of, say, profiling the Affordable Care Act, examining what parts work well and how it might be improved to make it a law that is not simply humane, but truly fiscally responsible.  There are a lot of smart people out there.  Imagine what could be accomplished if there was cooperation.  Instead, we have perpetual log jams of hostility over almost every problem facing our country.  Self-interest rules. The focus is on being right, not doing right.

Hannah Arendt called it the banality of evil.  Ordinary people who are ordinarily good can be capable of incredible hatred and dangerous, contagious animosity.  We have to get it together, America, with together being the operative word.   Will reason ever prevail?  Can anyone appreciate the power and dignity of respect anymore?  Civil discourse is our only hope for action that will benefit all Americans.  I am so afraid we are never going to get there.

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Friday, June 29, 2012

Goodbye Nora. Thanks for Everything.

I loved Nora Ephron’s work.  She had such a gift for finding universal humor in mundane encounters.  Her sense of romanticism was so seductive, if unrealistic.  We bought it because we wanted to.  She ripped our hearts out when she discovered her husband’s infidelity.  She raised our hopes that someday we would meet our own Harry and have what she was having.

I was so sad when her death at the age of 71 was announced this week.  But the accolades from her friends were so touching, so warm that it was almost a pleasure to read her obituary.  Now I know it was pretty unlikely that someone was going to say to The Times “She was a total cow and I couldn’t stand her.”  But still, if I receive even a fraction of that kind of praise when I go, I will be a happy corpse.

In her book “I Remember Nothing”, she wrote lists of things she would miss and things she wouldn’t.  I think one of life’s important lessons when we lose someone is being reminded how little time we really do have and how precious this world is.  So I have written my own two lists.

Thanks, Nora.

What I Won’t Miss

Multiple sclerosis

Doctor’s visits of any kind

Always being unhappy about my looks

Fat

Rampant social injustice

Bullies

Those horrible big buzzing beetles that somehow get past your screens on summer nights

Actually, all bugs.  Screw the ecosystem.

Sweating

People with no sense of humor

Knowing there is an audience for programs such as “Housewives of ….[fill in the blank]

Customer service reps who clearly hate people and don’t give a rat’s ass about your problem

Mean spirited, ugly comments after newspaper articles online

Chris Christie

Glen Beck

Job interviews

Heat waves

Weddings


What I Will Miss

My children and grandchildren

My sweet little dog

Writing and the sheer joy of words

My spectacular, funny, giving, loving friends

My cousin Steve, the embodiment of kindness to me my entire life

Laughter

The sound of the ocean

Books

Fabric and the potential in every yard

Yarn

Macaroni and cheese

Marzipan

London

Lemons piled in a blue bowl

Bruce Springsteen

Conan O’Brian

Dick Cavett

Lily of the Valley

Pencils

Haydn

The New York City skyline

Getting a package unexpectedly

A fresh pedicure with bright red polish

A soft, pastel linen shirt on a hot summer evening

Cuddling under a quilt I made myself, made in colors that simply make me happy

The antique pearls my mother gave me

Rain


What would your lists be?



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Wednesday, June 13, 2012

It's Just a Phase






The past few weeks have been a real transition phase for me and I have had a hard time writing about it as my ability to function independently continues to slither away.    I have now officially been declared ‘disabled’ by the United States government.  While this means some physical assistance and a steady, if poverty level, income, I am overwhelmed by the finality of the label. 

I am grateful for the fact that this benefit does exist, but it is tough to adjust to.  Even after six years, I am still relatively shell shocked by the whole chronic illness thing.

One very exciting development that occurred, however, is an opportunity I was given to write for the National MS Society Blog.  My first post, which I considered pretty simple and matter-of-fact, was so well received that at one point I was literally reading the comments with my mouth hanging open, I was so flabbergasted by the response.  With over 500 “likes” on the MS Society Facebook page and over 120 comments, I am humbled at the impact my words have had on readers, who apparently really related to my post on “The Five Worst Things I Have Done Since Being Diagnosed with MS” .  I’ll be contributing to the blog once a month.

Otherwise, trying to keep from being too wretched, I have been doing a lot of sewing, experimenting with projects and techniques I had never tried before. 

I made fabric texture books for each of my youngest grandchildren.  

Maddy's was first, so it is the the one I worked the kinks out on.  Also, it was well played with before I remembered to take pictures.


I haven't sent this yet, so don't tell him.  :)


I finished two memory quilts for a dear friend using squares cut from her late father’s shirts.  I am working on a third on for her brother and pillow shams to match for her nieces.



I am learning to make little things out of wool by needle felting.  This is a process that requires stabbing a clump of wool three hundred kabillion times over and over with a long barbed needle and shaping it into…something.  I am proud to say I only stabbed myself once.  Ok, twice.  Alright, alright it was really four times, but I only drew blood once.

The first one I did.  Got a little acromegaly going on, but I was just following the pattern.


Just finished this little bunny.

I learned how to make fabric yo-yos, little circles of scrap material that you then fashion into objects no one would want in a million years quaint crafts, such as table covers or toddler toys.  I chose to make a little caterpillar for my grandchildren because it was one of the few patterns that did not require about one thousand little circles, just a mere one hundred each.   




I also did a lot of embroidery, am experimenting with watercolor quilting (using graduated colored squares for effects), made aprons for my girls and my granddaughter (Paris-themed for the new bride who honeymooned in Paris and cupcake fabric for mommy and granddaughter, as mommy is a cupcake aficionado) and I’m making new curtains for my bedroom.    I’ll post pictures next time.  I also have joined a new site called Craftsy, where people post pictures of their projects.  It is fun to see what other people are making.  There is an incredible amount of talent out there!!  You can find my page here.
                                                                                                         

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